#yeah I know reason C seems worrying but I’m better now honestly

[blondedmuse]

SINCE IV’E BEEN LOVING YOU

synopsis. ꩜ since I've been loving you…I'm about to lose my, my worried mind

author's note. ∿ led zeppelin and tyler are sooo…i just had to write something. requested by anon. smoking, fluff and light angst.

word count. ⨾ 700

Tyler Durden drove you crazy. Still, there was something so prepossessing about him that you couldn’t help but to be mesmerized by him—to be in love with him. But love has never made you feel like more of a fool, sitting on his bathroom floor in his leaf button down, bare legs against the dirty tile while you cleaned his injuries. Tyler Durden drove you crazy.

You loved him for lack of a better word, but whether he loved you or not was the burning question that was absolutely killing you. And what was worse is that you would let it, rather than know the answer you knew would—so yes, you felt like a fool.

Still, you sat in between his legs on the floor, wiping the blood from his chest, a vague expression on his face and a less than comfortable silence looming in the air.

“You’re not fucking invincible, Ty,” You mumbled and it echoed throughout the room, your voice shattering the silence like a stone to glass.

His brow quirked up. “Really?” He asked sarcastically, his ambiguous expression morphing into a lighthearted grin.

“Really. I’m serious,” You sighed, rolling your eyes, dousing the now bloodied hand towel in more alcohol.

"Must you be so serious, baby?"

"I must because you won't."

He narrowed his eyes. "I can be serious," he said amused with your accusation and you couldn't help but roll your eyes again, shaking your head. Silence crept in once again and Tyler pulled a cigarette from his pocket as he observed you. He noted the way your nose slightly crinkled at the odor of the alcohol and how warm your hands felt against his chest. The way your eyes held a flash of affliction yet you seemed to be nothing but unaffected with a calm composure.

“No one has ever cared about me like you,” He murmured, letting his lips wrap around the smoke.

"Yeah, whatever," You breathed.

"I'm serious."

Your brow quirked up, mocking him. "Really?"

"Really," He whispered honestly, lighting the cigarette and sucking delicately, letting the stagnant debris pervade his lungs.

"Is that supposed to be a good thing?" You asked, looking up at him.

"Take it how you will."

You didn't know what to make of his words so you didn't say anything at all. Instead you continued to repeat your cleaning routine, moving to the cuts and bruises on his face. You snatched the cigarette from his mouth, putting it in yours as your hand moved to his jaw while you examined them.

"Hey," He exhaled, puffing the ash gray fumes away from your face.

"It was in the way," You muttered, your voice muffled by the cigarette and your focus directed towards wiping the dried blood on his lip. When you pulled the towel away, your eyes met his; the gaze you’ve been secretly been avoiding for this reason exactly. You couldn’t help but melt under his stare, your cheeks heating up. It was as if you were free falling and no one was there to catch you—not even him. So you looked away before you could reach the ground.

It was remarkable and infuriating the way he could make you feel. It’s like he would take your breath away only to never give it back. He stole your heart and never revealed his intentions. He was a magician and you were his audience to whom he would never tell his secrets.

You focused back onto his split lip, without the blood running from it, but your thumb running cautiously over the skin.

“I love you,” He said.

You furrowed your brows. “What?”

“I love you.”

You only stared at him, as if this were one of his magic tricks. You were analyzing his expression that you couldn’t tell was hopeful, wistful, or anything at all. And before you could make a decision, he was pulling your legs so that your body was aligned with his and you could feel the warmth radiating off of him. it was real, this was real.

He took the cigarette from your mouth, anticipating an answer—and he got what he wanted.

“I love you too.”

He got you.

Tyler Durden drove you crazy.

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Carla Ecstasy [05]

ー The scene starts outside of Banmaden

Male Ghoul A: Oi! Are you done honing the swords!? Make sure to do the spare ones as well!

Male Ghoul C: Hold up! I’m still doing the final check-ups of the armor!

Male Ghoul B: The Vibora are on their way to attack this castle! We don’t have a single second to lose!

Male Ghoul C: Look who’s talking! Maybe move your hands instead of your mouth then?

Male Ghoul B: Excuse me...!?

Male Ghoul A: Oi, wait. Now’s hardly the time for us to start arguing, is it?

...But this really sucks. With the war drawing close, Shin-sama’s training has become more and more strict.

Haah. I feel like my body isn’t going to hold up at this rate.

*SCENE SHIFT*

Kino: Aha! The Ghouls are starting to panic with the Vibora clan commencing their attack. 

( ...Well then. The war will start at last. )

( To ensure that I can gain control over the Demon World ーー I will need a place which can serve as my footing. )

( Being located in the centre of the Demon World, Banmaden would honestly be the ideal fit. )

( There’s also Eve as well. With her connections to the Demon Lord, she could use her as quite the powerful trump card. )

Putting that aside, there’s two people who could get in my way.

( Carla and Shin ーー No matter what happens, I can’t imagine they will ever become my pawns. )

( I figured Carla would make a run for it to Rotigenberg, fearing his illness. )

( But he’s surprisingly persistent and ultimately decided to stay here at this Castle. )

...This is exactly why I hate people who can’t get over their big-ass pride.

With people like that ーー You have take them down a peg or two. 

ー Kino approaches the Ghouls

Male Ghoul A: Ah, Kino-sama!

Kino: You guys seem really motivated! How does it feel, knowing you’ll be heading into your very first fight?

Male Ghoul A: Ahー ...Well.

Male Ghoul B: ...That’s...

Kino: ...? What’s wrong? You seem anxious.

Male Ghoul B: Ahー Yeah. We are. You see...

Kino: ...? You can tell me anything. I’ll listen to all of your worries.

Male Ghoul B: No, it’s just that we don’t have any magical powers. ...So we can’t help but be worried how much of a chance we’ll stand against the Vibora.

Male Ghoul A: Besides, we lose to the Vibora troops both in numbers and raw power...

Kino: Yeah, I understand. I’m worried about that as well. 

Even though I made Carla a suggestion which would easily fix the issue with the Vibora, he blew it off. 

Male Ghoul B: Fix the issue with the Vibora...?

Kino: Exactly. A wonderful plan where nobody would have to fight.

Male Ghoul C: Eh? What does that plan entail exactly...!?

Kino: Fufu. You seeーー

ー Kino explains to them

Kino: There you have it. As long as we offer her to the Vibora Clan, we’d easily be able to form an alliance with the Vibora Clan.

I guess he said no because he doesn’t want to lose his own woman.

Male Ghoul B: ...No wayーー So we’re being forced to risk our lives in an unnecessary fight over such a trivial reason!?

Male Ghoul A: Does that mean that Carla-sama doesn’t take us into consideration at all...!?

Male Ghoul C: ...Hey. Why don’t we go confront him directly about this?

Male Ghoul B: Confront him directly, huh? ーー You’re right. Let’s go tell him that he can’t just sacrifice us like this!

Male Ghoul A: Okay, off we go!

ー The Ghouls run off

Kino: Perfect. They took the bait, just as I thought.

Now Carla will have some important taken away from him as well. 

I hope he loses all will to live. That’d make my job a lot easier.

Anyway, I better go check how things turned out afterwards. ...Well then, for my next moveーー

ー Yuuri walks up to him

Kino: ...Hm? Aah, Yuuri. Anything you need?

Yuuri: ...You seem to be in a good mood.

Kino: Yeah! My plan is going perfectly, fufu~

Yuuri: ...Kino. There is something I would like to ask you once again.

About the Founders who are supposedly trying to get us out of the picture.

That is what you told us, but he accepted us as his allies so we can fight for him.

I simply cannot imagine that his end goal is to get rid of us.

Kino: Ah, about that. that was just something I said on a whim.

Yuuri: Hah?

Kino: Like I said, I randomly made it up. 

Yuuri: ...Why would he tell such a lie? 

Kino: Eh? No reason in particular. Just felt like it.

Yuuri: ...

Kino: Oh geez, don’t make such a scary expression, Yuuri. 

ー They can hear a commotion

Kino: Ah. Seems like Ghouls are finally rebelling against the Founder King. I can’t miss this!

ー Kino walks away

Yuuri: Kino...

ー The scene shifts to the saloon

Carla: ーー It is awfully noisy in the entrance hall.

Shin: ...? What could be happening? Don’t tell me it’s the Vibora!?

Carla: No, it is too early for that. Besides, it does not sound like a fight.

Shin: Then what on earth...?

Carla: ーー Either way, let us go. 

ー Yui gets up

Yui: I’m coming as well.

ー The scene shifts to the entrance hall

Male Ghoul B: There he is! The Founder King!

Male Ghoul A: Founder King! Please listen to us!!

Carla: ...!

Shin: Oi, oi, what’s this ruckus for!? Calm down!

Male Ghoul B: We want to talk to the Founder King! You stay out of this!

Shin: Excuse me...!?

Carla: Shin. Stop.

Shin: But, Nii-san!

Carla: They said that they want to talk to me. So I shall listen. 

Shin: ...!

Carla: Yui. You return to your room.

Yui: No. I’ll stay here. 

Carla: ...You will not do as I say?

Yui: I’m sorry. I will not.

Carla: ...!?

Selection

→ I cannot ignore this

Yui: I cannot ignore this situation. 

Even if I were to return to my room, I believe I would worry myself sick.

So I shall remain here.

Carla: ...So you are remainig here out of your own selfish desires. Do as you please then.

Yui: Yes...

( He sounded a little cold just now... )

( But I am indeed being selfish, so I guess I cannot blame him... )

→ I want to be by your side (❦)

Yui: I want to be there for you. Always, at all times.

No matter what happens, that is a choice I made for myself. I will not regret it.

Carla: ...Hmph. If you are that insistent, be my guest.

Yui: Yes...!

ー Carla walks up to the Ghouls

Carla: Sorry for the wait. Ghouls, tell me what you have to say.

Monologue

The Ghouls suddenly stormed Banmaden. 

They are demanding an audience with the Founder King.

I wonder if the reality,

of the Vibora Clan who have initiated their attack on Banmaden,

is affecting them as well. 

In the end, the misgivings (疑問) around Carla-san’s possible involvement with the death of the young lad,

has yet to be resolved. 

Given these circumstances,

It honestly would not be strange,

if this had triggered feelings of displeasure and doubt (疑問) towards the Founders,

amidst the Ghoulsーー

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

[moonstruck-writing]

Title: Soaring Pairing: Artem Wing x Rosa | Tears of Themis Rating: T C/Ws: Pre-relationship, canon-compliant, fluff, teasing, slight dom/sub undertones (Dom!Rosa&Sub!Artem) Requested by anon: Hello! This will be my first time reading your work, so if it’s alright, may I request Artem x Dom!Rosa for the prompt “putting your hand on your S/O’s thigh to see their reaction”? But it’s Rosa touching Artem’s thigh during a meeting or something hehe. (He must be so red 😆)Feel free to ignore! Thank you :) Word count: 2k A/N: first of all, I am sorry for taking so long to complete this request!! I was really happy to receive it, and then life happened :/ I hope it can still reach you somehow and that you enjoy it, anon <3 I did it pre-relationship, because I think it suits this prompt more (and they weren’t in a relationship in the Global server yet when you requested this).

It was a cold and quiet evening at the NXX headquarters. The artificial lights felt slightly brighter than usual, now that the days were beginning to be shorter.

“Here, drink it while it’s still hot.” The fog emanating from the hot beverage preceded Artem’s figure. Rosa took the mug from him, and he sat down next to her on the sofa.

They both allowed the warmth to spread from their palms to their bodies. They were taking a break from going over a recent case the NXX had uncovered. Artem had been the first to know, so he and Rosa were doing the initial contact and preliminary investigation. The small coffee table was completely covered with a laptop, a tablet, their phones, and the information that Artem had printed at Themis before they left the office and came here.

There was no space to put the mugs on without putting everything in danger. So they both blew on the contents of their respective mugs, sipping carefully to not burn their tongues.

“I can’t believe you don’t need to drink coffee,” Rosa said looking over at Artem.

“You’re not drinking coffee either.”

“Yeah, but I’m drinking tea!” Rosa looked down at her mug as if to prove her point. “How can you still have so much energy after a long day?”

Artem wanted to say that wasn’t true, but he simply chuckled lightly. Yes, he had built on his stamina over the years, and his capacity to spend long periods of time focused on cases was better than when he had started working at Themis. However, that wasn’t the reason he didn’t need to drink coffee in situations like that.

The reason was her.

Being alone, without any of the other members of the NXX wasn’t something so uncommon, but Artem still wasn’t used to it. Being with her here was so much different than being in the office. The atmosphere was more intimate, and that made him nervous, shooting incredible amounts of adrenaline into his blood. Honestly, the number of hormones his body produced whenever he was around Rosa was enough to supply an entire coffee factory, so of course he didn’t need to drink coffee.

But that was something he wasn’t going to tell her. He didn’t think he was good enough at concealing his emotions so that Rosa would be surprised when she heard the truth, but he still had his pride. And it wasn’t like he meant to conceal what he felt. He simply wished to impress her.

“How have you been sleeping lately?”

Rosa made a surprised sound while she sipped on the tea. He didn’t mean to ask something so personal and… motherly? But he had few ideas about what topics to bring up to get to know her more.

“I don’t want to answer that,” she replied smiling. “The exhaustion seems to find me all the time except when I’m about to sleep.” She sounded nonchalant, almost as if she was saying the opposite of what came out of her mouth. Artem couldn’t help worrying.

“There are relaxing teas you can try before going to bed.” He looked at her attentively.

“Oh, believe me, if I was more relaxed, I’d be falling asleep right now.” Rosa joked, slipping down on the sofa now that her mug was only half full. “Not that you’re boring or anything like that though!” She quickly rushed to explain. “But I’m so comfortable with you, and we’re sitting down on a sofa, and I had so many deadlines this week…”

Artem looked warmly over her, laughing softly. He wanted to tuck the stray hairs that were falling over her eyes and cheeks, but he wasn’t sure about breaking the distance.

“And now I’ve dragged you here,” Artem said, half-jokingly, half-worried. He reprimanded himself internally for not noticing her struggles sooner. It seemed that as much as he paid attention to her, he still had a long way to go.

“And I thank you for that,” she replied with conviction in her eyes. The sudden change in her features to a more serious gesture caught Artem off guard, and he looked away, pretending to have remembered the table full of papers.

He tried focusing on something, anything but the speed at which his heart was beating and the warmth that wasn’t being caused by the hot chocolate but by the fresh image of Rosa’s look on his mind. However, it didn’t work. He didn’t understand why any change in her behaviour that he didn’t expect was able to throw him off in such a way, and he wanted to get over this as fast as possible. But that wasn’t fast enough.

Rosa stared at him, wondering what was so interesting that had him suddenly lost in thought. She felt a tinge of jealousy covering her curiosity, and it annoyed her. It annoyed her that she didn’t know what or who was in Artem’s mind even when he was next to her. So she had to act.

With a new resolution distracting her from the tiredness, she sat up straight on the sofa and finished the contents of her mug. Then, without warning, she leaned over Artem with the excuse of peering at his mug.

“You’re almost done, want me to bring our mugs to the kitchenette?” Her face was really close to his when she raised her head from the mug. Artem started and froze in place for a couple of seconds. Then, when his brain began working again, he nodded.

Satisfied, Rosa backed down enough to let Artem finish his drink. Once Rosa got up and walked away, he inadvertently touched his face. Once he felt the heat from his cheeks, sighed. He was older than Rosa and more experienced in Law, but in moments like that, he felt she was the more mature one out of them.

He couldn’t help but wonder if his suspicions were true – if she had had other experiences that he didn’t – and he immediately regretted it. There was nothing he could do, and there was no way he was going to ask her. At least, not now. Maybe in the future.

When Rosa came back, they agreed to resume their investigation. That put Artem in a better mind space, but it didn’t last long.

As he was using his tablet to try and collect leads and important pieces of information they might have missed, Rosa started part two of her plan to be present in Artem’s mind.

It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy work-mode Artem. She admired him and even aspired to be more like him, she had a lot to learn, but right now she didn’t want someone who inspired her from a podium, she wanted someone who was there with her, who noticed her. And she needed more than to be noticed as a coworker, a partner in crime – or in justice, rather. She wanted to be noticed as another human being, all flesh and bone and blood and feeling. Not information, but feeling.

But as Artem noted down things as he scrolled over documents on his tablet, Rosa felt he was far away from her, in the land of reason and Law. And she was going to take him back from there. (She would always have time to review her actions later and regret it or not).

She uncrossed her legs and sat closer to the edge of the sofa, where Artem seemed to be perched, ready to take flight would he need to. But Rosa was going to jump and soar before him. As she put back in order the printed documents she had been reviewing – she was still a professional even with not-so-professional intentions – she used that chance to peer into the tablet and scan the screen in search of any relevant words. And when she found them, she almost forgot what her ulterior motive was.

“Crimson Biotech,” she muttered, half-whisper, half-surprised shout.

Before Artem could turn to look at her or even smile at her reaction – for as much as he was able to focus on work, he was never so engrossed that he couldn’t perceive the outside world – she had already moved. It was only a second, her hand on his leg as she moved closer to take a better look at the screen.

It was only a small contact, a small portion of their bodies connected, and it was a natural reaction. Both of them were thinking that, but their hearts were far away from feeling only that.

Artem almost forgot to breathe as his heart started beating so fast it threatened to take all the space that belong to his lungs. Such rapid circulation of the blood in his body couldn’t have any other consequence than making him red. It took Rosa a couple of seconds to notice the furious blush spreading over his entire face, and it made her want to take away that hand by reflex, but she forced herself not to.

It wasn’t the first time she had seen Artem blushing in her presence, but it was the first time she saw so much of his skin turn red. She hadn’t thought anything she did could have so much power over him, but she loved it. It had taken so little, and yet… it made her feel special and seen and felt. Like his skin had turned to crystal and she could peek inside his brain to see that she was there. She existed.

Artem felt frozen in place, like her hand was a spell and he had nothing to protect himself against. He didn’t dare to say anything, didn’t dare to look at her, didn’t dare to move. He felt embarrassed and vulnerable – she had gone into his space, had penetrated the barrier that always seemed to separate him from everyone. But he didn’t want her to take that hand away. That would mean she was backing away. Instead, he wanted her to stay. Wanted her to keep moving forward, wanted her heart to mirror his.

It was that desire that finally triggered him into action, and he dared to look at her. But his lips remained sealed, for he wasn’t sure his voice wouldn’t tremble if he spoke to her. There was only his intense gaze meeting hers, and she felt her heart flutter. Her hand felt so hot, she wasn’t sure if it was her or Artem’s body temperature that was rising. The answer was both, but she couldn’t know. All she could worry about was the fact that if she sweated, it could leave a mark on Artem’s suit trousers.

“Do we have another lead connecting to Crimson?” She asked, looking away from him, backing away into known territory.

And for the first time, Artem didn’t hear a question. He knew she had spoken, that some words had left her mouth, and that it was probably important, that she wanted an answer. But his brain was filled with her: her beautiful eyes that were looking curiously at something, her hair that glowed brightly under the artificial light, her scent, gentle but incredibly captivating, and her warmth – that hand that still hadn’t left his thigh. And it was too much, and Artem couldn’t think, Artem was only a bubble on the verge of bursting.

When everything had ended, and he was turning off the lights before he sent Rosa off, Artem couldn’t remember how they had finished their work. He was only vaguely conscious that at some point, Rosa had raised her hand from his thigh and in the process had accidentally touched the side of his torso.

Even if his whole body seemed to be vibrating, so alive as it felt, he could feel the distinct places where Rosa had touched him.

That was the first time Artem thought he had driven carelessly. He hadn’t dared to look too much in the side mirror next to her, for fear their eyes would lock in the process. But when Rosa closed the car door and bent down to smile at him from the window, he felt it had all been worth it.

It was okay. He could drive less than perfectly and he could survive being bright red. Not only that, but Rosa had touched him, and hadn’t backed away after his reaction. He wasn’t sure what it all meant. The only thing he knew was that he didn’t need to keep reading and highlighting Introduction to the Psychology of Love.

.

.

.

.

A/N: It’s been so long since I last played Tears of Themis T-T I hope this felt natural!

I hope you enjoyed this, interactions and constructive feedback are appreciated <3

Masterlist | AO3

Please do NOT repost. Reblogging is okay! Characters belong to their rightful owners, the plot and content here belongs to @moonstruck-writing

[onetruegoon]

Maybe I should remake a tumblr account and just post art and follow people I already because

A) I follow 800 people on here. No way am I gonna vibe check all of them

B) my reputation is ruined on this hellsite and the person who did it has faced no consequences

C) tumblr was bad for my own health. I was addicted and i had Those Not Good Distressing Thoughts That I Should Talk To A Therapist About while I was on the site. See reason B.

D) posting art on here seems to get more attention than twitter.

E) I'd probably only check tumblr once a week and post only when I have a drawing.

F) not exactly a reason but god fuck the TES fandom on this site. thanks For the gaslighting on one part, the stalking on another probably, and the harassment campaign. i had everything and then it was all taken away from me. Fuck every single one of you.

it's almost 6am and I didn't get a wink of sleep and I have work today. Maybe that’s why I'm so salty. whatever

[spilledkauffie]

Meet Cute

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x DogMom!Reader Word Count: 1.8k T/W: fluffyyyy A/N: I know it’s a trope, but I love it!

Can you imagine Bucky with a puppy?!?!

Managing six dogs at once wasn’t exactly easy, but you did it rather gracefully, at least most of the time. Today however, you fumbled with your keys at your apartment door when two dogs suddenly, and swiftly wrapped around you, pulling opposite directions. With a small shocked squeak at being squeezed, you accidentally dropped both your keys and a leash, one out of six wasn’t bad, but it was still a loose puppy, trotting around the apartment hall like he owned the place. 

“Peanut!” You yelled out of sheer concern as the baby dachshund gallivanted towards the stairs, as if it were his prison break at last, “Peanut, sweetie, come here!” You called again, eyebrows furrowing during your attempt to untwist the other leashed from around you, as he got closer and closer to that first step which was far too steep for him to comfortably and safely make wihtout tumbling down the rest. 

You watched in sheer panic as his short stout front legs took the leap of faith with ears flying freely in the air like he was Dumbo. You anticipated the little yelp that would absolutely break your heart— Thankfully there was a soft landing platform neither of you had prepared for. Underneath Peanut appeared two hands covered in black gloves. The small dog fit perfectly in the hands as he wagged his tail, beyond proud of the heart attack he nearly gave you. Sighing, you leaned into the door of your apartment for support. 

“Whoa there,” the saviour said, bringing the pup up with him as he stood, having had to dip to catch the pup on the stairs, after glancing at the shining silver bone shaped name tag he met the dog’s eye line, “Peanut, was it?”

As the stranger made his way up the last few steps, you couldn’t take your eyes off him. While you didn’t know him personally, you had seen him around the apartment complex before. Heart still pounding, you shook your head at the pup who was plenty happy in the hands of his rescuer. 

“Peanut Butter Brittle Biscuit,” you full named the dog, causing him to tuck his tail, still wagging it though. Setting your hand, which was still being tugged on by the other five other dogs, on your hip, “you know better than to just run into strangers, it's rude.”

“Well, Peanut,” he looked to the pup in all seriousness, “I’m Bucky. There, we aren’t strangers anymore,” he affirmed, shaking the dogs tiny little paw gently, “and so we’re not strangers,” he looked to you, “I’m Bucky, and you are?” You smiled at his flirty tone, “unless you’d like to go by 4C? Keep it professional?”

“Four- C?” You gave a puzzled look.

Bucky pointed above and behind your head, with the hand he was not literally cradling Peanut with. Quickly glancing you realized it was your apartment number. Now feeling a flush of embarrassment, you took a moment to face him again, squeezing your eyes closed. 

“Oh yeah,” you nervously laughed, before giving him your name as well, you liked the way he repeated it to himself, “and you’re 2E, right?”

“Do we know each other?” he asked, tilting his head with a smirk.

“Oh no, I just, sometimes I see Yori go down there, and- I’m not stalking you, I promise,” you frantically explained, waving your hand, wrapped in dog leashes. 

“No,” Bucky smiled, letting you know that was not what he was thinking, “I think I’d hear you if you were though,” he looked down and around at the literal pack of dogs sitting and standing around you. The pack ranged from a German Shepherd to a Golden Retriever to a Dachshund to a Pomeranian to a Corgi to, lastly, a dopey Great Dane.

“Most definitely,” you laughed, trying to calm your nerves, “we’re not the most graceful bunch, you had a display of that just a moment ago, which thank you so, so much.” You placed your hand over your chest, as an expression of relief. 

“No problem,” he said with a sincere nod and smile, petting back the dog’s ears, “looks like Peanut here is a real daredevil.”

“You have no idea,” you glanced at the puppy, “he’s a troublemaker and thinks he’s invincible.”

With that Peanut interjected giving the most babyish attempt at a deep roo, sassily from where Bucky held him still.

“Talker too, huh?” Bucky gave a shocked glance at the Dachshund who was still resting comfortably with his chest being cradled by Bucky's hand.

“Yeah, well we’re 40 minutes late to D I N N E R,” you spelled out the last word in a whisper, “Fridays are always long days,” you gestured around you to the bigger dogs with toys covered in drool, they just stared up at you, sighing you collected yourself, “they’re park days.” 

“Ohh, I see,” Bucky nodded, “I'd hate to keep you any longer then.” 

With a soft ‘okay’ and a smile, you held your hands out to take Peanut back. There was a brief moment in the exchange where your hands touched his and he gave a ‘sorry’ knowing it was probably cold against your skin. As Peanut hovered with both your hands on his chubby little sides. Your Dane tugged one way again, while the Retriever was determined to go the other, pulling you and Bucky closer together. Practically chest to chest, save Peanut being the barrier between the two of you.

“Oh my gosh,” you whispered, looking down immediately, even though there was hardly room between you two to do so, literally feeling the heat rise to your cheeks, you closed your eyes, “this is not happening.”

“I’ve been in worse situations,” Bucky remarked cooly, keeping his gaze focused on you, finding it surprisingly cute at how flustered you were around him. It’d been a long time since he had felt someone had real genuine human emotions regarding him. 

Neither of you took your hands away from the other’s. Standing there you bit in your lip, calming your rising pulse as you were now close enough to smell his cologne. 

“I’m-” you started, finally looking up, “so sorry.” 

“It’s really okay,” Bucky chuckled, not wanting you to feel as worried as you were, but you just knit your brows together and gave another apologetic look, “honestly, I could- I could do this all day.” There was a pause, then you smiled, ducking your head to hide your face against Peanut who was really becoming a star matchmaker, “I think Peanut and I are going to be very good friends by the end of this.”

Lifting your head with a nod, you sighed, stroking the pup’s ear, for a moment before you guided the other dogs around to give you some more space. Bucky respectfully took a step back, somehow still holding Peanut after all that. You opened your apartment door and the dogs rushed in, you let each leash fall off your hand as they entered. You said their name with each one to keep track of them.

“And lastly,” you exhaled, reaching your arms out again for the troublemaker of whom Bucky surrendered, though he was getting fairly fond of him, “well, at least let me invite you in? Have a drink on me? Something?”

“That’d be great,” Bucky said, gesturing for you to lead the way. 

Once you were both in and Bucky shut the door behind him, you let Peanut loose and immediately he ran to his dinner bowl, waiting in anticipation. Offering Bucky to sit at the bar, you set two cold bottles on top of the counter, but before you joined him you got out six dog bowls, making him smile.

“How long have you had them?” Bucky asked, opening his bottle relaxedly with his hand.

“They vary, some for years, but the most recent,” you nodded to Peanut, “only a few months.”

“So uh, why so many?” Bucky inquired. 

You squeezed your shoulders up, looking around at all of them, “they needed a home,” you said, soft smile, “each of them came from a broken place, of hurt and pain. That’s all they knew before I took them in, and,” you shook your head smiling wider, looking over to Bucky, “if I could be a part of their healing, I knew I had to be. I can’t think of leaving something to suffer if there’s something that can be done to help.”

“That’s-” Bucky looked to the floor as you rounded the counter, to sit next to him on another bar stool, having just set all the bowls down, “that’s a really great mindset.” 

“What about you?” you took a sip, “any pets?”

He swallowed shaking his head, “no, I have a weird work schedule,” he squinted at his own reasoning, hoping it didn’t sound too dumb.

“Oh gotcha,” you nodded, before gesturing with the top of the bottle, “well Rodgers seems to like you.”

Your gesture drew Bucky to look down, sure enough set atop his thigh was your German Shepherd's head, looking up with big eyes and slowly wagging his tail. Bucky pet the dog’s ear, “Rodgers?”

“Yeah, you know after Captain America? He’s ex-military himself so I thought it was fitting,” you bent down to pet the dog yourself.

There was a quietness, Bucky looked away from the dogs and you for a moment. Biting the inside of his lip he felt something he hadn’t in a long time, though he tried to repress it. A part of him felt it was a sign, another part of him told himself to ignore it. Takin another swig, he made his choice

“Hey, if you ever. . . need help with them, I’m,” he hesitated, “I’m usually free Fridays, or- park days.”

“I’d love that,” you smiled leaning back up, “how bout I get your number so we can plan a da-,” you quickly changed your sentence, “a park day.”

While you got up to grab your phone, he flipped open his, seeing the very few contacts and the messages from only one person. Wincing he was a little nervous, this meant opening up. You returned, asking for his number, to which he willingly gave you. Finishing the drinks he said he really should head home, you completely understood, already surprised that he stuck around that long after the incident earlier. 

With casual goodbyes, you shut your door and he headed back downstairs. Taking his gloves off, he suddenly felt his phone vibrate. Sitting on his couch he took it out of his pocket. Seeing your name pop up with a “hi 4C here, texting you like I said I would” and a smiley face with a dog emoji made him smile to himself. 

He opened it-- it was time to start answering messages, it was time he found his healing.

[chaotic-major]

MPAU Part 1

For @min-play I hope you like it! This will be following Min-Play’s Movie Possession AU. Enjoy part 1!

Lloyd liked to consider himself a fairly normal person. Sure, his dad whom he’s never actually met in person attacks the city every other day but besides that, everything in his life is normal. The bullies can be a bit much, considering it's basically the entire population of the city, but his mom doesn't need to worry about anything more than her job. Lloyd can handle it, he’s fifteen. 

He fixes his hood as he walks down the street, avoiding eye contact with anyone but the ground. He’s memorized the route home by now. As the city falls into dusk, Lloyd takes a moment to gaze at a fountain in a small plaza. He doesn’t dare enter of course, but it’s nice to take in the beauty of the city once and awhile, especially if it doesn’t always last too long. 

The clouds overhead rumble as a light rain starts to fall. Lloyd sighs and watches all the people gather their things and head into their homes or find buildings to seek shelter from the rain in. He starts to continue his walk back when a dark vortex opens in the sky. Lloyd stares at it, puzzled. Is his dad somehow orchastairing this? He wouldn’t put it past him, honestly. But as soon as it opened, it closed and the rain abruptly stopped. As confused as Lloyd was, he had no energy to question it at this point. He sighed before turning on his heel and going home.

Morro realized he wasn’t entirely in the right. Holding the realm crystal in one hand and his sensei’s in the other, Morro realized it was up to him. Save himself, or save the ninja. When he looked behind master Wu to see the ninja’s scared and angry faces, he knew what choice he had to make. Putting the realm crystal in Wu’s hand and ignoring his pleas to save himself Morro looked at his sensei and let go, a sad smile on his face.

“You can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved.” He says as the Preeminent grasps onto him and pulls him down, closer and closer to his watery doom. Lloyd lunges forward suddenly and smacks the realm crystal, opening a portal below Morro. The Preeminent lets go and Morro is pulled down into the portal, Lloyd’s last words to him ringing in his ears.

“I forgive you, and I’m sorry.”

Morro fell through the void as if he had any weight, a force of gravity pulling him down through the opening on the other side. When Morro opened his eyes, he was floating in front of a large city, with buildings that seemed to touch the sky and with lights that glowed brighter than most others he’d seen in the past few weeks. He floated through the streets, glaring at every person who walked through him and paid him no mind regardless. 

“Hello!?” He shouted, flying above the crowd. “Can any of you fools hear me?” No one gave any response. He looked around, almost frantically, wanting to be heard.

“H-holy shit. You’re a gh-ghost.” A meek voice said from below him. Morro turned and flew down, inspecting the person who spoke. He seemed to be a young teen in a green hoodie, the hood up and covering his hair. It was blond and strands were falling over his face. His eyes were an emerald green, a colour he’d seen in someone else before…

The realization struck Morro in an instant. This was… Lloyd? He seemed nothing like the green ninja Morro had grown familiar with. This one seemed shy and scared, so much so he didn’t ever seem to take off his hood. The Lloyd Morro possessed was confident and strong, the green ninja. This Lloyd didn’t look like he could hurt a fly.

“I am. So who are you?” Morro asked, not wanting to look like a fool if he was wrong.

The boy shifted on his feet. “I’m Lloyd. What’s your name?” 

Huh. This kid really knew nothing. “I’m Morro. Master of Wind.” He looked Lloyd in the eye. “And you’re the green ninja.” That made Lloyd drop his expression of fear and trade it for confusion.

“The green ninja? What’s that?” Lloyd inquired. Morro looked like he was about to tear his hair out. What god forsaken universe did Lloyd send him to?! Death a second time would’ve been better than this! Morro groaned. 

“It doesn’t matter.” Morro said before promptly possessing Lloyd. The teen screamed as a spectral projection of him was produced, taking Morro’s spot. Morro glared at him until Lloyd realized he was basically fine. He stared at Morro, shock and confusion apparent on his face.

“Wh- what are you going to do? Now that you’ve possessed me?” Lloyd asks the specter in his body. Morro scoffed and walked away, knowing that Lloyd would be pulled after him if he got too far from the body. 

Morro walked through the streets, watching as people parted around him. He tried to ask for directions to the museum multiple times, all a fruitless effort as people either scoffed at him or threatened him away. Morro was more than agitated at this point. Everything was so bright and loud, so much space in the street and yet so little. The buildings were too tall and he felt much too small. Morro caught sight of an alley and ducked into it, breathing out a gentle sigh of relief as he escaped the loud and towering street. 

“What’s wrong with these people…” Morro mutters, walking farther into the alley. Lloyd’s small voice piped up from behind Morro.

“Um… H- hey, it’s getting pretty dark… I really shouldn’t be down here this late. We should go back.” Lloyd suggests. Morro lets out a laugh that chills Lloyd to the core.

“Wow. That’s adorable.” Morro says in a mocking tone. An apparition of himself appears before Lloyd.

“In case you haven’t noticed, you’re not in control here. So shut up and stay put.” Morro demands. Lloyd looks down before looking back to Morro.

“C- can I at least call my mom? She’ll be worried.” Morro raises a finger and opens his mouth to reply before he was thrown from the mindscape and back into Lloyd’s body. Suddenly, Morro was up against the wall, a knife to his neck.

“Make a sound and I’ll slit your throat,” The man said in a low tone. “Garmadon.” Morro grew more emranged, if that were possible. He blasted the man off of himself, kicked his legs out and pulled the man to the ground, hand in his hoodie, holding him to the ground.

“Let’s make this crystal clear.” Morro said, holding the knife to the man’s throat, hair now a jet black in contrast to the sunny blond it had been seconds ago. “ I am not Lloyd Garmadon.” He announced. “I and Morro. Master of Wind. And I will be the Green nin--” Morro was cut off as Lloyd managed to grasp hold of control.

“STOP!” Lloyd shouted. He glanced at the knife in his hands before screeching and dropping the knife before dashing out of the alley. Lloyd broke into a sprint, managing to make it three and a half blocks before breaking down. Morro let himself into spirit form, rebounding Lloyd against a wall. 

“What was THAT?” Morro shouted at the teen. “I had that! Why did you get in the way!?” Lloyd stood his ground.

“You- you were going to kill him!” Lloyd shouted back, scared and concerned. Morro digested Lloyd’s words a moment. 

“..No.” Morro said. “NO!” He exclaimed angrily. He pointed his finger at Lloyd’s throat. “HE was going to kill YOU.” Lloyd’s eyes widened. Morro was right, as much as he hated to admit it. Lloyd looked back from where he ran, stewing on Morro’s statement. He pulled his hood over his head, desperate to ignore what had just taken place. He felt his hands shake, ready to have a good cry.

“Can… can I please call my mom and let her know I’m ok?” Lloyd asked in a small voice. “Please? I’ll help you find the museum after.” Morro smacks his hands in his face and gives a long groan, letting his hands fall off his face, contemplating the suggestion. He sighs and nods silently, watching as Lloyd walks over to a “payphone”. He inserts a coin before pressing the numbers on the small pad in an order, obviously committed to muscle memory.

“Hey, mom.” Lloyd answers after a few seconds. Morro floats behind Lloyd, back turned to the boy. “Y- yeah I’m ok.” Lloyd says after a second or two of silence on Morro’s end. “I’m sorry.” He hears Lloyd apologize. Morro feels something bubble up in his chest, squeezing his nonexistent heart. He sighs and allows Lloyd to end the call and return home without stopping at the museum. 

It would’ve been closed at this hour anyways. Morro reasons with himself. As Lloyd settles into bed on the fateful Friday night, whether either of them liked it or not, they were stuck together, for better or worse. Morro looked out Lloyd’s window all night, watching the city slow down and speed up as the sun rose. Maybe… maybe he could still get what he wanted. He turned and looked at the blond, finally looking at peace for the first time Morro had seen. He turns back to the city. Just maybe.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

I’ve got an idea! How about a Police reader who arrests Felix for drunk driving before the kids die?

Finally a good ending we deserve-

.........

Being a police officer who worked late shifts meant that some nights were quiet, while others were...tense. But even slightly tense situations could turn deadly if you weren't quick and careful with your response to them.

It's truly a matter of life or death, not only for you but also for those surrounding you. So you had to be on your guard even if nothing remarkable was happening.

Sure, the roads along Saint Juana's forest were quiet especially at this time of night, though from experience you knew it didn't always stay that way..

Such as right now for instance, when a sleek black car was barreling down the road. It practically flew by your own car, swerving in a way that was all too familiar to you.

In a way that a distracted or drunk driver would.

Welp, time for you to go to work.

"So much for a peaceful night.." You sighed to yourself, turning on your lights and sirens before you began following the car.

'Please cooperate and make my life easier.'

...........

"Uncle Felix? That cop's following us, slow down."

"I know, Eddie. Just...damnit, why now? I just wanna go home and...and sleep." Felix slurred as he gripped the wheel, his vision growing hazier by the second. He was anxious about getting caught, and for a moment he thought about speeding up to lose the officer.

He had no idea there was even one on these roads.

"C-Can you stop, please?" Molly pleaded, hugging Rocket as she looked back at the blue and red lights. "You should always stop for the police."

Although his drunkenness clouded a majority of his judgement, he managed to have enough sense to listen to her. He reluctantly pulled over and stopped, groaning as he rested his head on the wheel.

Maybe the kids were right. Maybe he drank a bit more than usual. He forgot how much he even had, but it wasn't his fault that the school had a "drinking zone" established.

Regardless, he was glad he stopped driving for the time being. Now he can just take a nap and forget the world.

Forget the divorce..and Ja-

Tap tap

The sounds startled Felix wide awake, though he saw it was you--the officer--at the window. He rolled it down and smiled up at you. "Evenin' officer."

"Evening." You greeted, noting that his breath practically reeked of alcohol. "You were speeding quite a lot. You nearly took out my side mirror."

"Oh...Oh fuck..I'm sorry 'bout that. I'm just trying to get my friend's kids home. I'm supposed to get 'em back by nine." Despite his attempts to act sober, he was clearly failing.

Ed and Molly remained silent in the backseat, not wanting to snitch and accidentally anger their uncle again.

"I understand, but may I see some license and registration?"

For a few good moments, he seemed to forget where he put those. He was even struggling to get his ID out of his own wallet, which made you fully convinced he was drunk driving.

"Ah, Felix Kranken?" You hummed as you looked at the card. The name was familiar. You've seen it show up in advertisements for a new restaurant that would be opening soon, alongside the other founder's name.

"Y-Yeah, the one and only." He chuckled.

"Do you mind stepping out of the car for me?" You asked politely, returning the ID to him. "I have reasons to believe you're under the influence and...possibly endangering those kids." As you spoke, you peered into the window to see the two clearly worried kids. "So I need to run some tests."

Felix's heart sank into his stomach, realizing just how screwed he was. Absolutely everything went wrong with his life today.

Not only did Linda divorce him, but Jack couldn't be bothered to ask if he was doing okay, instead making him be a "taxi service" to his two youngest children.

And the fact you were probably going to arrest him, which would ruin his chances to help Jack open the business he worked so hard to bring to life, became the last straw.

He choked out a drunken sob, shaking his head. "I-I'm sorry, I'm..I'm just so tired. I just got divorced and..I-I'll admit it..I got serious problems. Do you have to arrest me? Is there anything I can do??"

"If you're admitting that you're drunk, then..unfortunately I have to arrest you, Mr. Kranken." Honestly, you felt bad for the guy. But you needed to consider the possibly of him trying to use his position and personal problems as an excuse.

No matter who he was, or what was going on in his life, he wasn't above the law.

"M-My life is over. Oh god..wh-what am I gonna tell Jack?!" Felix began crying, but he complied in stepping out of the car, although he abruptly collapsed to his knees. He didn't even try to get up.

Your heart broke a little as you heard Molly trying to console him, telling him "everything is going to be okay."

For young children, they were so calm and understanding as you explained why you were arresting their uncle--reassuring that neither of them were in trouble--and got their dad's contact information, which was conveniently written on their bunny plushie's tag.

You were glad you stopped the car when you did..or god knows what could've happened to them.

On the other hand Felix was acting like the child, sobbing and hiccupping when you handcuffed him and led him into your car. He seemed more terrified of his business partner finding out than the fact he could've killed Ed and Molly.

Either way, it was better than him being an angry drunk. You've come across quite a few of those uncooperative jerks who denied they were drinking, even trying to run away from you while handcuffed.

But even so...seeing his tearful face as he apologized over and over was a difficult sight.

You were just doing your duty. And you've possibly saved all three of their lives tonight.

That was all that mattered.

[monamourbladie-mb]

Better?

Anakin Skywalker x reader [SMUT]

lets... not mention how long i was gone, okay? 😅 i won’t be gone like this again, i promise 🥺 i’ll get right back on requests and such, i just really REALLY struggled on this for some reason... ive got honestly no clue why but eh, here it is. i hope it was worth it! sorry the request took so long anons. 💕 ALSO big shoutout to @anakinswhore for lowkey giving me the inspiration to finish this 🥺 (everytime i almost scrapped this i remembered that my favorite fic writer on tumblr told me i got this, so i knew i couldn’t give up on this :’) thank you so much!

Plot: Anakin gets home from desling with the Bad Batch and is cranky. To help them both unwind, Anakin decides to bring Y/n with him while he showers.

WC: 2.3k

warnings: finger fucking, piv sex, unprotected sex [sorry it’s awkward to write condoms n shit like that— let’s pretend the force works to prevent pregnancy 😭]

Y/n had set down her holo communicator and sighed in frustration, looking at the time.

It was nearing 11 pm, and Anakin had yet to respond to her call. He had promised to call her the moment his mission with the Bad Batch was over, and it was almost 4 hours over the time he had promised.

She grumbled to herself and set it into her desk drawer, standing up and walking to their bedroom. Since it was getting late, she decided to start getting ready for bed. She decided to forego a shower and take it in the morning instead, her exhaustion and worry getting the better of her.

Sliding on her robe, she put her (h/c) hair in a small bun, laying on the bed. She pulled the sheets back and sighed softly as the cold, sheen silk covered her body.

Laying on her side, she did her best to suppress the fears of why Anakin was taking so long to talk to her - trying to stay in a positive mindset. But of course, the turmoil and constant loss from the War made her think differently.

As her mind grew darker, her need for sleep depreciated as she grew more worried. Huffing in frustration when some time had passed and she still hadn’t fallen asleep, she sat up and grumbled to herself.

It wasn’t like she could call Obi-Wan or another member of the council to see if he was alright - it could raise suspicion since, besides working alongside him during some battles, she wasn’t always in contact with him during the War.

Just as she was about to get up to get some water, the door opened and she felt Anakin’s presence through the Force.

She immediately jumped out of bed, retying her robe and rushing out to meet him. “Anakin! Are you okay? It’s so late-“ she began as soon as she saw him.

He sighed snd shut the door, immediately taking off his robe and throwing it over the back of the couch. “I’m sorry,” he said somewhat sternly, sounding exhausted.

“For what, Ani?” she frowned, crossing her arms. “Being late. As always...” he grumbled, walking over to her and kissing her cheek gently. “I didn’t mean to be, the mission went overtime, and we ran into some trouble.”

“Was it successful, at least?”

“Yeah, thankfully. Wasn’t at first, but, we got Echo home safe.”

“So... why do you seem so... down?” she bit her lip, following him into their bedroom.

“I’m exhausted, sweetheart. Completely drained. I’m sorry if I seem off, I was just put under tons of pressure between Rex and Hunter. They got in a big fistfight, and I had to break it up...” Anakin replied, sitting on the bed and sighing, resting his head in his hands.

“Oh, Ani...” she sighed, resting her hand on his shoulder snd rubbing it gently. “I’m sorry, I know the war is hard enough to deal with.”

He shrugged after a moment and grunted, leaning his head back as he sighed. “I think I’m going to take a shower and forget about this God awful day, I’m sorry.”

“That’s fine, I get it. I was planning on taking a shower too, actually, but I might later then.”

Anakin glanced over at her for a moment, sliding his tongue over his lips and letting out a low hum when she doesn’t move, “Aren’t you coming then?”

She raised a brow in confusion, “What? You want me to come with you?”

“You said you wanted to shower, right? Do it with me, no harm in that,” he responded.

She bit her lip, thinking about all the possible endings. She cautiously stood up, walking over to him, “You sure? I can wait, it’s no problem...”

“Y/n,” he said firmly. “What did I say?”

“You said come shower with me,” she repeated. Anakin nodded, “Well, do you want to or not?” he smirked slyly, crossing his arms and watching her curiously.

She took a moment to look up at him, moving up to kiss him gently, “Better get a move on then, you know I prefer it very hot,” she smirked.

He rolled his eyes playfully and deepened the kiss, moving his hands down her back slowly until she pulled away, “Now you’re the one holding us up.”

“Alright, alright, go and get things ready. I’ll be there.” He kissed her forehead gently then pulled away, walking out of the bathroom.

She suppressed a giggle and smile as she skipped to the bathroom, all the thoughts rushing through her mind as she imagined what could happen.

“You’re tired. He’s tired. I’m sure you’re just showering, don’t get your hopes up.”

Boy, that was a lie. She was brushing out her hair and Anakin stormed into the room, pressing her firmly against the counter, crashing his lips onto hers. She gasped into the kiss and dropped the brush onto the counter, gripping onto the counter sides to keep her up-right as he left no room between him, her, and the counter.

Her eyes fluttered close as he cups her cheeks, moving his human hand down the side of her face to her jawline slowly. “Take it all off,” he mumbles, his voice muffled against her soft lips. “I have other things in mind.

She whimpered against his mouth and pulled away for a moment, her chest heaving as she almost was gasping to catch her breath, “What about showering-?”

“Who says we’re not showering?” he smirked, undressing her with his eyes. She swallowed thickly at his gaze and moved to start striping down slowly, keeping eye contact with him.

“Now look at you, all riled up and nervous,” Anakin smirked crossing his arms and watching her.

“Don’t... don’t look at me like that,” she said softly after she got her bra off, her hands starting to tremble from excitement and straight nerves.

“Why not? It’s getting you to tremble, I like it,” his voice gets darker as he moved closer to her, kissing behind her ear. He moved his long fingers over her panties and hooked them in, slowly pushing them down as they fell to her ankles.

She felt shy and exposed as he pulled away to admire his prize, his eyes growing darker as he watched her. He moved his large hands to her smaller waist and pulled her flush against him, keeping his gaze on her face now, “Are you going to get in?”

She nodded, trying to pull away but his grip on her hipbones was too tight. He loosened his grip just enough for her to slink into the warm shower, and he followed suit right after.

He moved his hand to rub her back gently, keeping his ever-darkening gaze transfixed on her smaller body.

She purposefully tried to ignore him, keeping her back turned to his front as she wets her hair under the warm water trickling from the showerhead, trying to occupy her mind with anything but the obvious - she and her lover were showering together.

Anakin trailed his hands lower then moved so his front was placed firmly against her back, kissing the back of her neck, “Don’t ignore me, sweetheart. You’re on edge, let me help you.”

“I don’t know why I’m so nervous, I just,” she turned around and looked up at him and her breath hitched, gripping her hair tighter.

There her lover stood, towering over her with water droplets running down his long darkened brown curly hair onto his toned chest, the small droplets falling down his body over all his muscles.

An involuntary whimper escaped her lips as she shamelessly studied his figure, every inch, every angle... he was just perfect.

“You’re staring,” he smirked, his chuckle low as he pulled her flush against him, looking down at her with dark eyes, “take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“Oh, shut up,” she said quickly, immediately slamming her lips onto his in a frenzied, heated swift movement. He let out a low growl against her lips in content as he pulled her as close as he could get her. She let out a soft moan into his lips as she felt his hard length press against her, causing her to shudder in anticipation.

“Now you’re needy, what changed, my love?” he pulled away from the intoxicating kiss to kiss and suck across her neck, making her moan softly, “I c-changed my mind,” she stammered, her mind blank and fuzzy with lust as her core began to throb with need.

“I can see that,” his voice was smooth yet deep, knowing he could do the slightest thing and get her riled up even further. He moved his hand and pushed her thigh up near his hip, moving it so he had more room as he danced his thumb over her clit slowly.

Her head fell against his chest and she let out tiny breathy whimpers against his skin, her hips jolting in surprise from the newfound pleasure, “Ani—“

“You’re such a needy little thing, aren’t you? You were acting all innocent earlier, and now that I'm rubbing my fingers all over you you’re a mess,” he clicked his tongue in teasing disapproval as he moved his pointer finger to slide into her heat quickly, alongside his middle finger.

Her eyes widened and she moaned loudly in approval, her heavy breathing against his chest quickening with each ministration.

“Ani, I j-just want you— please—!” she looked up at him with a lusty, needy gaze through her lashes, biting her lip to suppress more moans as he fucked her with his fingers. He grunted in response and curled them against her sweet spot, smirking at her reaction, “Is this what you wanted, sweetheart?”

“N-No—! I want your... i want y-your... fuck, Anakin!” she moaned in response, her hips starting to shake as Anakin knew how close she was already.

He chuckled darkly and leaned against her neck, sucking roughly over her already darkening hickeys as he started pounding his fingers into her harder, rubbing her clit faster, “Use your words, little one, I know you can.”

She threw her head back in ecstasy as she moaned, falling off the edge into bliss as Anakin fucked her through it with his fingers, his eyes wandering across her body now quivering from intense pleasure, water droplets falling from her hair down her breasts.

She went to speak when he silences her with an intoxicatingly passionate kiss, cupping her cheek with his metal hand as he helped her ride her high out, “Good girl...” he mumbled against her lips.

She felt completely out of breath, gripping his bicep for support as he pulled his fingers out of her, using his metallic fingers to brush away some of the wet hair from her face.

He moved her body further from the warm water of the shower so she wouldn’t get water in her eyes as he leaned her against the wall. Keeping his hand firm on her hipbone, he moved her thighs apart gently and began to pump himself slowly, his breathing picking up.

He looked in her eyes and saw an intense lusty gaze he hadn’t seen in them for awhile - and he immediately knew she wanted to continue. He moved his free hand to cup the back of her neck, moving her closer so he can kiss her deeply as he pushed himself into her quickly.

She gasped in surprise against his lips, her eyes fluttering closed as she felt him fill her up completely with one swift thrust.

She arched her back against him, gripping his back weakly as he immediately began rocking his hips into her at an unrelenting pace, grunting in her ear, “So fucking tight for me, angel... And so needy, letting me take you in the shower like this...”

She would never admit verbally just how much she loved his dirty talk, his dirty-natured words sending sparks throughout her pussy and her body as she gripped his hair tightly, “Please, this is all I’ve needed,” she moaned almost out of breath, her heart beating out of her chest as she tightened around him.

His loud growl in response edged her to start to roll her hips against his cock, and he smirked in response, leaning down to kiss across her throat, “So—fucking—tight...” he grunted into her ear, his cheeks burning bright red from the mixture of the hot sex and steamy shower.

Her legs buckled and he immediately gripped her closer to him and the wall, moving her to lean back against it more as he lifts her leg to get a deeper angle, causing her to cry out in ecstasy as the pleasure grew too great.

With her already sensitive, her high build much faster than usual and she gripped his hair tighter, digging her fingernails into the back of his head as she panted, her eyes rolling back, “Anakin—!” she moaned weakly.

He recognized that needy, breathy moan all too well as he knew she was close without her needing to say it. He kisses hot open-mouthed kisses across her throat and collarbone, moaning for her to cum for him as he lazily moved his finger down to rub her through her orgasm; the constant throb of her walls sending him closer to the edge.

She let out a loud breathy moan as her high overtook her, letting out small squeals and moans into his ear as it washed over her. She immediately felt numb as it ran through her, the sight of her moaning and the feeling of her throbbing harder causing him to cum. He leaned his head against hers, moaning shakily as he leaned against the wall to steady himself as he fucked them through it, his metal hand firmly on her hipbone to keep them upright.

Her breathing was shaky and uneven as they came down from their highs, and he kissed her hurriedly and softly, “Better?” she muttered against his lips. Anakin nodded softly and chuckled, pulling out after it had fully faded snd pulling them back under the direct range of the water, “Much, much better.”

[moonvyx]

Special One Out - Peter Parker (Any)

(Idea from YT and a fanfic)

Warnings: Angst, death and unfair parents .

Y/N's parent's never liked her, there were so many unnecessary reasons why they disliked her. One of the reasons were that she had beautiful h/c hair, while they were brunettes. (If you're a brunette, you can pick a diff hair colour.)

At a very young age of 5, her little sister, Celia was born. (You can use your second name or another name if your name is Celia.)

Y/N craved the attention her parents gave Celia.

She tried to impress them with her daily drawings from school, she tried to impress them by knowing how to spell Czechoslovakia, (I had a hard time spelling this!) but they were unimpressed with everything she did, instead they were impressed with the blabs and whines of Celia.

When Y/N was in her first day of grade 1, her parents didn't say goodbye, not even a good luck kiss on the check.

She felt nervous, no one was there to assure her that it was all gonna be okay.

No one but Peter Parker.

The two met on the playground during lunchtime.

Y/N was sitting on one of the swings, watching all the kids eat and laugh together.

"Hello." A friendly voice greeted, Y/N turned her head to the person who owned the voice.

"Hi," She replied with a smile. "I'm Peter, Peter Parker." The sandy haired boy introduced. "Y/N L/N." The h/c girl replied back.

"May I sit here?" Peter asked, she nodded. "So how's your first day?" He questioned her again.

"Uneventful. Mom and dad didn't even tell me to have a great day." Y/N said sadly. Peter's brows furrowed and his lips turned into a forwn.

"Why?" He asked, "Well they dislike me, for some reason. I never knew why. I didn't ask, I didn't want to be even more disliked." She replied with a frown on her face.

"Oh..Well, that's terrible." Peter stated, looking at the girl. "Yeah, but it's fine. Happens all the time." She said.

"No, you deserve better." Peter said and hugged the girl. "A hug to brighten your day." He breathed. Y/N smiled and laughed, and hugged Peter back.

"I can tell this is a start of a beautiful friendship, Y/N." Peter smiled. "I'm sure it is." She replied with a smile.

Years passed, everything stayed the same.

Y/N's parents still adored Celia, she and Peter still stuck together and formed a beautiful friendship.

But things began to down downhill when a specific blonde began dating Peter.

Gwen Stacy.

Who wouldn't like her? She's pretty, smart, kind, thoughtful, she could he every man's dream girl.

Even Peter's.

And here you are, holding the rails of your balcony as your tears tell down like the Niagara falls.

All because he ditched you just to hang out with Gwen.

"I'm supposed to he used to this, he always ditches me for Gwen." You said, wiping the tears before going back inside your so called home.

"Y/N, I want you to go to the store and get Celia some ice cream, Cookies and Cream. Don't mess it up." Your father commanded strictly. You nodded softly before heading out.

The night was cold, very cold. You mentally thanked yourself for always wearing a hoodie.

As soon as you arrived at the store, you couldn't help but feel like someone has been following you. You just hoped it was some guy who was also going to the store.

But oh how wrong you were.

"That'll be $5," the old lady said. You nodded and hamd dnher your $5 before leaving the store with the plastic bag full of ice cream.

"Thanks miss, have a lovely night." You smiled at her as she also smiled back before leaving.

During your journey on your way home, the same feeling that someone was following you came back.

Scared, you started to walk faster and began to walk in streets where there were a lot of people to scare the man away, if possible.

But sadly the random street walking ended up at an alley with a dead end. You stopped right in your tracks as the man stood behind you, you could feel that he was smirking in success.

"What do you want from me? Leave me alone." You told the creepy man, but all he did was stand there with a creepy look on his face.

He continued to not say anything, but when the one and only Spiderman jumped down from a building, the creepy man immediately grabbed your arm and ran away with you.

Oh but he wasn't alone, 2 other creepy men came out of nowhere and distracted Spiderman as the man who held you run away.

"Get off me!"You yelled at the man. "Let go off me!" He groaned and took out a handkerchief and sprayed it with some weird cologne and covered you mouth and nose with it, making you unconscious.

Before you could fully black-out, the man said "Now you'll shut up."

~

Y/N woke up with a banging headache. Groaning, she tried to move her arms but realised they were tied to a pole.

"Ah, I see that you're awake. Great timing, your spider boy is here." The same man who covered her mouth earlier said.

"What does this have to do with me?" She asked, attempting to untie the ropes. The man laughed darkly. "Oh you'll see. Just wait." He said before walking away.

~

A few minutes have passed, it honestly felt like hours for Y/N. She sighed before looking around.

At the corner of her eye, she spotted a familiar Blue and Red Spandex walking around the building.

Relieved, she signaled the hero to come towards her direction. "Psst, Spider-Man!" She exclaimed, but only enough for him to hear.

It seems like his Spider senses heard her voice and alerted him. "Y/N," He said happily and walked to her. "I'm glad you're alright."

She recognised that voice, she paused for a moment before her eyes widened. "Peter?"

Peter's eyes widened, "I-I'm not Peter. Who's Peter?" Y/N laughed, "I know that voice anywhere, Parker. I thought you were a genius." She smiled as he did the same.

"Anyways, let's get you out of here." He said before untying the ropes.

"Not so fast, spider boy." A voice said, the hero turned around in frustration. "Look man, you have no reason to get this innocent fine young lady in trouble." He said.

Spiderman then shot a web towards the criminal, only to be dodged. Laughing, the man called in the rest of his gang and started to attack the hero.

Everyone was so focused on their own thing that they didn't know that one of the gang members placed a bomb.

The other men had already left after leaving Spider-Man tired on the floor, they knew exactly what was gonna happen, and so did Peter.

So with all his strength, he got up and ran to Y/N, who was trying to free herself all this time.

"Peter..Help." She begged, her eyes full of worry. "Shh, it's alright. I'll get you out of here." He said and untied her.

With Y/N free, the two ran for their lives but it was too late, the bomb exploded as soon as they reached the exit.

The blast was strong, it made the two fly away from each other, one of them still near the exit and the other near the edge of the building.

Peter got up and looked around for Y/N, only to see her on the floor, full of bruises.

The ground below her was about to break. Worried, Peter ran as fast as he could to save her.

But it already broke.

She felll.

He didn't hesitate to jump down after her, not forgetting to shoot a web to catch her.

Luckily, his web was able to wrap itself around Y/N's waist, Y/N looked up and saw Peter and gave him a big smile. She mouthed a "thank you" to him as he smiled back.

But the happy moment was ruined when the web snapped, making Y/N fall and scream.

Peter shot another web, hoping that it'd grip on her tighter this time. But it didn't.

He kept trying and trying until one of them didn't fail him.

He smiled again and made sure she was safe as he went next to her.

"Hey," Peter greeted with a dorky smile.

"Hey." Y/N said.

"I'm so glad you're okay." He said, caressing her cheek. "And I to you." The two stared at each other romantically.

The two got down safely, earning many claps from the crowd.

The two never broke their loving stare, that was until Y/N spotted one of the men pointing a gun towards Peter's back.

With no hesitation, she changed their positions and heard a gun shot after. Gasps and screams echoed through the area.

"Y-Y/N?" Peter asked, he looked at her back and saw there was blood leaking from a hole.

"No." He said in realization, he made her face him and begged with tears forming, "Stay with me, Y/N. Please. Stay with me."

But her eyes were already closed.

[ghostbustermelanieking]

jonmartin for 13? :)

i have absolutely no restraint and cannot write anything short im so sorry. this is a mag 102 au where martin finds out jon was kidnapped sooner. warning for discussion of this kidnapping as depicted in the episode, and the aftermath of recovering from this. also here on ao3.

13. things you said at the kitchen table

In the end, it's Melanie who tells Martin Jon's been kidnapped. Catches him in the break room, irritated and banging around the mugs, and she drops it into a sentence like it's something casual to be communicated. Oh yeah, Jon's back. Guess he's been kidnapped or something, and something sharp presses into Martin's chest, something like urgency. He's pushed his way out of his chair and halfway towards the door in a blind sort of franticness before Melanie catches him by the arm. "He's fine, you know," she says. "He looks… I mean, he doesn't look good, but he…"

"A month, " says Martin, feeling sick. "A month, he's been gone, and we… we didn't…"

"We didn't know, " Melanie says annoyedly, but there's a tiny pinprick of guilt in her voice, too. "He… he wasn't here before. You know that."

Right, Martin thinks, because you're probably the person he talked to most before he disappeared, and then he immediately feels guilty. Jon's been kidnapped, and he's… he's just… "Where is he?" he says, softer this time. (The bite's still in his voice, a little bit. He isn't sure who to be furious at, but it's hard not to be under the circumstances.) "Has… has he left?"

"Uh… no, I don't think so," says Melanie. "He… he said he was going to go lie down."

Martin knows, immediately, where he is, and he tries not to wince at it; he remembers sleeping there every night, scared out of his mind on that little cot, he doesn't know how Jon stands it. "I'm going to go check on him," he says. "I… he shouldn't… I'm going to go check."

Melanie lets go of his arm. "I think Elias knew," she says darkly. "Jon said it and he didn't even bat an eye. He knew, and he didn't tell us."

Something twists in Martin, something that he pushes aside—doesn't matter, not yet, all that matters right now is making sure Jon is all right. He nods a little, at Melanie, and then he pushes out of the break room and down towards the office. Tim is out for the day (not surprising), and Basira is reading at her desk; she doesn't look up when Martin comes through. Martin goes to the storage room where the cot is, where he knows it still is, and raps his knuckles quietly on the door frame before opening the door. 

Jon jumps, when Martin enters, in a way that instantly makes Martin shrink back with guilt. He's huddled on the cot, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, and he looks awful. Thinner, hair shaggier than when Martin saw him last. He looks exhausted, leaning towards the wall like he needs it to hold him up, and his arms are wrapped around himself in a protective sort of way. "... Martin?" he says, voice thin, and Martin honestly can't tell if he's happy to see him or not. 

"... Hi," Martin says, honestly not sure what to say. (What do you say in a situation like this?)  He chews at his lower lip, reaching for what to say— Are you all right doesn't seem appropriate, when Jon is so clearly not, but it's what he comes up with, his voice shaking a little when he asks it. 

Jon laughs, bitter, and uncoils his arms from around himself, relaxing a little. "Honestly? Honestly, not really, Martin. I… it's been…" He lifts a hand to press against his forehead; his sleeves fall down and Martin winces, immediately, at the red marks on his wrist, where he must've been restrained. "It's… it's, uh, really good to see you, Martin," he adds, softly. 

Martin presses a hand to his mouth, just for a minute; he's torn, he doesn't want Jon to see him upset, not when he's… "Melanie… told me," he tries. "What you… and I didn't… Jon, I'm so sorry. We had no idea, I… I swear, if we'd known, we would've…" 

Jon sits up a little straighter, something flashing in his eyes. "Hey… hey, no, Martin, it's… i-it wasn't your fault, it's all right, it's… t-there was no way to find me, and I hadn't really been… around before then, and it…" He breaks off his words, clutching a little harder at the blanket. "... Elias didn't deem it worth telling anyone," he adds, with a wry laugh. 

Martin takes a few steps closer, trying his damndest not to fall apart (at the fact that Jon looks like this, that Jon's been gone a month, that Jon is somehow trying to comfort him when he's…). "You aren't… d-did they hurt you?" he asks, uncertain who they even are. 

Jon flinches a little, looks down at his feet. "No, n-not… not really. I… not, um…" He laughs a little again, a hollow sound. "I'm just so tired. "

Martin stops, a few feet away; he thinks about touching Jon, some sign of comfort, a hand on his shoulder or—but no, that wouldn't be—he can't do that, not when Jon's just been kidnapped, it's probably the last thing he wants, to be abruptly touched. He does what he can do, instead; he says, "Jon, d-do you have anywhere… er, there's a… there's a reason you're staying here, isn't there? Wh-what about your friend you were staying with, could you go back there?"

Jon immediately, vehemently shakes his head. "I-I can't go back. Not if, n-not after… th-they came there before, they found me there, and if I go back… I-I told Georgie I'd leave. I can't bring her into this. I can't. If they came back…" 

"Okay," says Martin. "Okay, that's…" He crouches a little, feeling awkward as he does it, but he can't shake this feeling of—of looming over Jon. "Y-you can't stay here, Jon. This cot is horrible, i-it's… it's not a place for recovery, it's…"

"I'm going to find a place," Jon says softly. "I just… I need to sleep. First." 

"You shouldn't stay here, though," says Martin, "not after… you need a bed, a real bed, Jon. I…" He stops, halfway considers for a second. Starts again, because what else is he going to do? "C-come stay with me."

Jon looks up, shocked, but he doesn't immediately protest, so Martin continues: "Sleep on a real bed, recover, j-just until you're… I mean, my bed isn't great, but it's better than a cot, especially after…" He stops. He doesn't know what to say. "Just… you deserve something better than that, right now," he tries. 

Jon shakes his head, just a little. "Martin, I can't. I… i-if they came for me again, then you would…"

"I don't care," Martin says, firmer this time. (If Jon doesn't want to come back with him, fine, but he won't let that be the reason.)

"Martin, i-if anything were to happen, i-if you got caught in the crosshairs, I'd…"

"Really, Jon, I don't care. I'm not going to let them take you again, so you can put that thought out of your mind." Martin adjusts his position—it's uncomfortable, squatting like this, but making sure Jon feels safe is more important. (If it's even helping at all.) "You said you didn't want to put your friend in danger because she's out of this, right? Well—I'm in this. Pretty far into it, at this point, there's no getting out of it. So it doesn't matter. Okay?"

Jon worries at the edge of the blanket with his overlong nails. "... I… wouldn't want to impose…"

"You're not, Jon. I'm offering." Jon's still quiet. Martin shifts back into a standing position, because it really is uncomfortable, going slow; he adds, "It's the least I can do. Please."

Jon's hands are shaking. Martin can see it, now, and it's hard to watch; he's pushed a lot of fury back, just watching Jon now, still without any idea what's happened. "A—all right," Jon says quietly, finally, and his voice is thick, like he might cry. "Okay. Thank you. Thank you, Martin." And Martin feels a flood of relief at this, that Jon might be, at least, somewhat safe in his flat. 

---

They take a cab home. The Tube seems like it would be a lot. Jon really is exhausted, huddled up in an old coat despite the warm weather, leaning against the window in the back of the car. Martin shows him the bath and the bedroom, when they get home, says, "Let me know if you need anything," and leaves him alone. It feels like the right thing to do.

Martin stays in the living room. The anger begins to rise to the surface, then, coming out in bursts of nervous pacing and muttering (quietly, of course; he's had lots of practice with that, with Mum). He's furious at whoever took Jon (he isn't sure who, but he has a sneaking suspicion it's connected to the Unknowing), more furious at Elias for not telling them. He's going to say something this time, he thinks—march up there and give Elias a piece of his mind, or, or draft a furious email—and Martin has to stop there because it's all starting to sound ridiculous. He's going to say something now? He didn't say something when they found out Sasha died, when Elias told them that they were all trapped, but he's going to say something now? It sounds ridiculous, it does, and what would saying something do? Jon's back now, more or less safe, and there's nothing he can do now—no charging, triumphant rescues, nothing like that, all he can do is offer Jon his bathroom, somewhere safe to sleep. Shouting at Elias won't do a thing. 

(Martin wants to do something. He should've said something for Sasha, and he thinks he'll regret that forever, but if he couldn't then… well, he wants to have the courage to say something for Jon. But he doesn't. For some horrible reason, he can't.)

Jon sleeps for over fifteen hours, all afternoon and into the night. Martin sleeps on the couch. (He goes into the room to get the extra blanket and a change of clothes, and for a moment, he worries he'll wake Jon, but he must be quiet enough. Jon doesn't wake; he makes a strained sound in his sleep and turns over, curling in protectively on himself, but he doesn't wake up. Martin wants to go over there, kneel by the bed and hold Jon's hand, climb into bed and hold Jon and make sure he isn't hurt again. He doesn't. He doesn't have that with Jon, and now isn't the time, he can't scare Jon, make him uncomfortable, he has to leave Jon alone.) Jon's still asleep when Martin wakes hours later, tangled in his blanket on the couch, restless and on alert. He stares at the front door, tensing like he expects someone to come in (someone coming back for Jon), but nothing does. The apartment stays quiet. 

Martin gets up to make tea. It's still early, still dark outside, but he can't go back to sleep, he can't relax. He puts on the kettle and sits at the table, opens a packet of biscuits to munch on absently. Something to do. Something to do besides sit and think. 

The door creaks, abruptly, and Martin's head shoots up to see Jon, leaving the bedroom, looking dwarfed in one of Martin's rumpled jumpers. He looks at Martin with a tired sort of tentativeness and says, "Hi," softly.

"Hi, Jon," says Martin, his own voice too soft. "How… how did you sleep?"

Jon rubs at his throat, an absent sort of motion, and pads across the floor to the table. "I… well, actually. Very well. Best… best sleep I've had in a month." 

Martin's heart breaks a little, and he pretends it doesn't. Jon motions to the empty chair beside him and says,  "Do you mind if I…"

"No, no, of course not," says Martin quickly. "... D'you want some tea?"

A funny look passes over Jon's face as he sits and he says, "Yes. Yes, I… tea sounds amazing, Martin."

Martin gets up to get out another mug, to get out the milk and sugar. "I can make you something to eat, too," he says, and immediately feels horrible for not suggesting it earlier. (He doesn't want to speculate about when Jon's last eaten.) " Christ, why didn't I… I'm so sorry, Jon, you must be starving. I should've…"

"Don't, Martin, it's… I-I'm fine," says Jon. "Honestly, I… I-I can eat in a little bit, I'm not really hungry."

Martin bites his lower lip too hard and grimaces at the sudden burst of pain. "Okay," he murmurs. "Just… let me know when you're ready."

"I will," says Jon. 

There's silence for a few moments aside from Martin puttering around the tiny kitchen. It feels strangely domestic in a way that Martin isn't used to; he hasn't lived with anyone since Mum. He and Jon have shared meals before—they did it often, before Jon went on the run because they'd thought he was a murderer—and Martin's made him tea a dozen times, but it's never like… this. Quiet and natural, like they've done it a dozen times. Jon's staring down at the table, tracing a pattern cut into the top with an absent finger; he's shivering, in his chair, and Martin makes a mental note to turn on the heat. And then the kettle goes off, a sharp sound in the silent room, and Jon's jumping, jolting nearly out of his chair with huge, panicked eyes. 

"Sorry, sorry!" Martin says in a rush, reaching to yank the kettle off the eye. "Sorry—I-I forgot it was there."

"I-i-it's all right," Jon says. He's tensed against the table, his palms pressed to the top, like he's waiting for a bomb to go off, but he looks at Martin and he says, "Just a… little on edge, b-but really, it's fine."

Martin's chest aches as he fixes the tea. All of him aches, a guilt he can't really put his finger on—he didn't notice Jon was gone, he couldn't go after him, and now he can't even get to the kettle quick enough to keep from scaring Jon out of his wits. He doesn't say anything, though, besides another murmured, "Sorry," as he passes Jon the mug, and sits back down beside him. 

Jon holds onto the mug with both hands, like he expects to be pulled away, inhales a bit before taking a drink. "I've… missed your tea, Martin," he says quietly, stiltedly, like it's difficult to say. "All this time." 

Martin blinks in genuine surprise at that—all this time, and he's wondered before if Jon was just tolerating the daily cups. "You're joking," he says with disbelief. 

"I'm not," says Jon—and it's stunningly familiar, that tone of voice. He smiles a little down into the mug. "Haven't had a decent cup since February—Georgie's a coffee drinker."

"The audacity, " Martin snorts, theatrically, some small attempt to keep Jon smiling like that. 

"Yes, well—that's what I told her," says Jon, still with that halfway smile. He looks up at Martin abruptly, and something shifts on his face, almost—almost guilt of his own, which makes no sense. He says, "Martin, I've… I've taken your bed, haven't I? You… you should've said something."

"No, I shouldn't have, and I won't," says Martin firmly. "I didn't bring you here to sleep on the couch, Jon, for god's sake. The bed is yours."

"Sleeping on a couch won't kill me, Martin—"

"And it won't kill me either. You're not talking me out of this, Jon."

"A couch would be an improvement over that cot— anything would be. I shouldn't have…" That same look passes over Jon's face: that something resembling guilt. "I should never have made you stay there," he nearly whispers. "For months on that cot, after what you'd…"

"Jon, don't," Martin says, and he reaches out suddenly, to cover Jon's hand where it lays on the table. Jon looks up at that, as if he's startled, and Martin yanks his hand back, but he doesn't bring it too far; he leaves it there, hovering just above Jon's. " Don't ," he says. "I-it was a long time ago, and it was… I didn't mind staying there, I wasn't… you gave me a way out, and I-I appreciated that. I still do, Jon. So don't, please. Don't beat yourself up over that."

"I should've offered you better," says Jon, something like disgust in his tone. "I should've… there are so many things I should've done better."

Well—he isn't wrong, Martin thinks, but—but there's a dozen things they both should've done better, and now isn't the time to discuss them all, so Martin just says, "Don't," again. "Please. You don't have to… it's okay. It is. " And after a moment, Jon nods. He hasn't moved his hand away, but Martin feels odd, leaving his hovering there, so he just pulls it back.

They drink tea in silence for a few minutes. It's a pleasant silence, one that, under different circumstances, Martin might allow himself to hope for every day. It's several long moments before Jon speaks again, his voice rasping and small—he says, "It was the Circus. That took me. T-the one we've been looking for, planning the ritual. They'd… they planned it, they were watching me and they came."

Martin tries not to flinch, tries to ignore what feels like his insides grinding themselves together. Jon keeps talking after a moment; he says, "They… they wanted my skin. For the ritual. They… kept me for that, so they could… skin me. They were waiting for that."

Martin can't stop the words this time, when they push their way out; he says, "Oh, Christ, " like air being pushed out of him, like a sucker punch. He says, "Jon…" and his voice breaks, too, and something inside of him rips when Jon looks back at him, when he looks as if he might cry. 

"Um, Martin," he says, and he inclines his head tentatively towards Martin. "Do you mind… um, if I…"

His arms go out to the side a bit, and it's then that Martin realizes what Jon's asking for. He nods, immediately, and opens his arms, and Jon leans forward and into him so quickly that Martin wonders if he was waiting. 

Martin folds his arms around Jon gently, tentatively (one hand cupping the back of his head); he wants to cling, wants to hold Jon tight enough that nothing else would be able to take him, but he's afraid to hold on too tight. Jon, though, clings hard, his grip tight, his fingers digging desperately into the back of Martin's shirt. So Martin tightens his grip, and leans his head against Jon's, and lets Jon expel shaky breaths into his shoulder. He rubs tiny circles into Jon's back, murmurs, It's okay, it's okay now, and desperately wills it to be true. 

Minutes or hours later—it is impossible to be sure—Jon whispers, "Thank you," into Martin's shirt. He whispers it with a sort of finalty, but he makes no move to pull back. So Martin keeps holding him. 

"Jon… I'm so sorry," he says softly. "I'm so sorry. I… i-if I'd known. I swear, I would've come for you if I'd known." 

Jon takes another shuddering breath and looks up at him. His eyes are wet. There's something in his expression Martin can't quite place… reassurance, maybe. Or trust. "I know," he says. "Martin, I-I know you would've. I know." 

They sit there for a while longer, just like that, holding onto each other at Martin's kitchen table. 

[texanredrose]

Prep and Goth

Day 1: Enemies to Lovers/Secret Library Time

---

Weiss stared at the clock, mentally urging the second hand to move faster. The transition between this period and the next always took the longest- or at least it felt like time slowed down around this point in the day. She hated how the end of the period never caught her off guard; she was always keenly aware of the clock, with her work done and backpack already packed and ready for her to leave the classroom. She was usually the first one out the door.

“Hey, if I give you five lien, could you get me a redbull?”

“No, Ruby; for the last time, I don’t have a release period next, I’m a library aide.”

“Oh, come on, everyone knows you just show up, sign in, and disappear!” Her fellow senior slumped in her seat. “It’s not like you’re going to get in trouble! Ms. Goodwitch knows you ditch and she doesn’t say anything!”

How she’d become friends- perhaps even best friends- with the school’s most energetic track star was beyond her; it involved an ill fated chemistry lab and the fire department but, honestly, she couldn’t remember specific details beyond that. While Weiss would love to say she merely put up with and tolerated Ruby, the truth was that she still hadn’t entirely adjusted to the concept of having someone who would be with her through thick and thin. She was being… persuaded to open up to the young woman but she still kept more secrets than she probably should from her best friend.

“I swear, Ruby Rose, if you keep spreading such slander about my character, I’ll be forced to take drastic action!” She tore her gaze away from the clock to glare at the woman. “I do not skip class!”

Rolling her silver eyes, Ruby rested her head on her desk and groaned. “Just because you’re the Valedictorian doesn’t mean you have to be perfect, Weiss. No one’s going to care if you ditch one period.”

“I care!” The bell rang a moment later and she forgot about the argument entirely as she quickly grabbed her pack and fast walked to the door.

The walk from her class to the library was a blessedly short one, made slightly longer by classmates and underclassmen getting in her way as other students emerged into the hallway for the passing period. A cold glare managed to persuade some of them to move but not all of them- those blessedly ignorant few she stepped around or nearly barreled through if she could get away with it. It probably contributed to her reputation of being a vicious, cut throat type of person like her sister but her patience had worn too thin and she needed to get to the library.

A few steps from her goal, a hand suddenly landed on her shoulder and spun her around, and only two people in the whole school would dare put their hands on her like that, and only one of them for no good reason. “YANG-”

“Calm down, Princess, this’ll be quick, promise!” With hands on Weiss’ shoulders, she guided them away from the throng of students to a small alcove next to the library doors. “Just got something I need to say real quick.”

“What could you possibly have to say to me?” Weiss scowled at the blonde, annoyed that she seemed to get taller every time they talked, and crossed her arms over her chest. “Last I checked, I didn’t have anything to do with the girls’ basketball team. Or the weightlifting team. Or the boxing team. Or-”

Yang clapped her hands together in front of Weiss’ face, smiling that do-you-really-think-they’ll-expel-me smile of hers. “Hey, do me a favor? Drop the frigid bitch act for, like, five minutes, okay? Because I really don’t have the time for it; if you wanna go toe-to-toe in the bitch-out-lypmics, we can schedule that another time, but right now, I need to have a serious talk with you. It’s about Blake.”

At the namedrop, her blood ran cold and her heart lodged in her throat, eyes growing wide as a genuine tendril of fear began taking root in her chest. “Is she okay?”

“Well, that depends,” Yang replied, looking around at their classmates walking past without paying them any mind. “Look. I don’t get it, okay, the whole secret girlfriends thing, I don’t even know how you two got together… but what I do know is that Blake deserves better than someone who’s ashamed of her-”

“Don’t you dare put words in my mouth,” she hissed, worry turning to fury in the blink of an eye. “I’m not ashamed to be dating Blake. If it was safe, everyone would know!”

“Yeah, can you define ‘safe’ for me in this context? Because I’m having a real hard time convincing Blake you’re being sincere when you don’t want anyone knowing the two of you are dating.”

“You know we’re dating!”

“Because I refuse to let things go and I knew she was acting weird!” Yang growled in frustration, fingers flexing as if she was seriously debating throttling Weiss. “Listen, I figured it out and I bullied her into telling me weeks ago, but not even Ruby knows beyond that. Not a fan of keeping secrets but I’ll do it for a friend. Now, answer my question, please, because with the rest of the school convinced you two hate each other, this whole ‘don’t tell anyone we’re dating thing’ is clear as mud, and it’s really starting to get to her.”

Weiss’ shoulders fell as she looked away, her anger abating in the face of the situation presented to her. “It’s… complicated.”

“Then uncomplicate it for me.” Yang made a gesture with one hand. “Just give me a straight answer!”

“I can’t!” She stamped her foot, speaking before she could think about her word choice. “I can only give you a gay answer!”

Yang stared at her for a long moment. “So, that’s what Blake meant when she said you have the worst sense of humor.”

“I’m done with this conversation-”

Yang grabbed her arm and stopped her, expression turning serious. “Listen, you don’t wanna talk to me? Fine. But talk to Blake. If you really care about her, she deserves to hear that.”

As the blonde stepped away, the bell rang, making both of them late- not that it would matter. Ms. Goodwitch wouldn’t count her late and even if she did, a single tardy wouldn’t be much of a blemish on her record. There was a time when it would’ve bothered her but she’d grown past that a few years ago; perfection was, in some sense, in the eye of the beholder. Blake would notice, though, and she hurried to the library to keep her ‘secret girlfriend’ from worrying.

When she got to the library, she dropped her bag behind the counter and signed in, highly aware that Blake was somewhere among the rows reshelving books. 

The librarian gave her a small nod. “I presume you have good reason for being late but don’t make a habit of it.”

“Of course, Ms. Goodwitch.” With that, she grabbed a few leftover books that needed reshelving and went into the stacks to reshelve them. As soon as she was far enough away from the front desk, she spoke in a soft voice that Blake would be able to hear regardless. “Blake? I’m sorry I’m late.”

“Is everything alright?” She’d long ago grown accustomed to the faunus’ silent steps, which really shouldn’t be possible given the amount of glistening chains and bits of metal hung from her ensemble but it was one of those things Weiss had accepted about Blake at first and had grown to admire. “It’s not like you to be late.”

“I… got pulled into a conversation.” She debated, briefly, if she should mention who the conversation was with but ultimately decided against it. Yang would likely bring it up herself at some point but she didn’t want the distraction at present. “Blake… you know I care about you, right?”

“Yes, Weiss, and I care about you, too,” she replied, her voice holding that special lilt that Weiss used to think was snideness. Now, she recognized it as a gentle sort of teasing and, sometimes, a deflection. “What brought this on?”

“I’ve been thinking about some things… and I find myself curious about some… other things.”

“Truly, you have a way with words.”

“I’m trying to be serious!” Weiss whined, putting a hand to her head as she tried to think of a way to word what she wanted to say. In the next moment, Blake stepped up and wrapped her arms around her waist, resting her chin on Weiss’ shoulder in a silent show of support. This was, partly, where they differed, because even when words escaped Blake, the faunus could somehow find a way to convey what she needed; Weiss, in contrast, simply clammed up entirely if she didn’t begin insulting whoever was nearest. “You know the only reason we’re not dating publicly is because of my family, right? That, the moment I turn eighteen and gain access to my funds, I’ll shout it from the rooftops… right?”

Blake took a step back but one hand lingered on Weiss’ hip, a soft assurance that she wasn’t leaving but that they should probably have a conversation like this face-to-face. When she turned around, she searched shining amber eyes and found a touch of disbelief hiding there. “I’ll admit, I didn’t think it was the only reason.”

“It really is…” Weiss sighed, running a hand through her bangs in frustration. “I… I don’t know how to prove it, I don’t know if there’s anything I could say or do that would, but… I don’t want you thinking that I’m ashamed of dating you… that’s… that’s the furthest from the truth.”

Feline ears flicked towards one end of the row and both of them quickly focused on shelving the few books that remained as a group of students went back to one of the study rooms. Once the coast was clear, Blake sighed heavily. “I told Yang to drop it.”

“She’s trying to help.” Begrudgingly, she continued. “Ruby’s the same way. They meddle when they can but they have the best of intentions.”

“Still… she wasn’t too… forceful, was she?”

“She only threatened to throttle me, so no, she wasn’t too forceful.” Weiss tilted her head. “And, arguably, she has a salient point. I… I perhaps took it for granted that you would… that I made my feelings about you clear to you.”

Blake ducked her head, her ears flicking back briefly to blending into midnight black hair. As per her usual, the faunus was bedecked in all black save for the silver of the chains hanging from her pants and the snake bite piercings on her bottom lip. Whenever they were making out, Weiss found that flicking either of the piercings with her tongue would always result in a soft groan from Blake.

“So… when you turn eighteen…basically, when we graduate?” Blake took a step forward. “That’s… a long time to be a secret from everyone.”

“Well… not from everyone. Yang knows.”

“Uh huh.”

“And Ruby will know… when I tell her…”

“Right.” Blake came a bit closer. “I guess that means we won’t be going to prom together.”

Weiss raised a brow, then caught onto what her girlfriend was doing, a smile tugging at her lips. “You? Go to prom?” A soft chuckle. “I thought you said you wouldn’t be caught dead at… what was it you called it? A useless party for empty headed idiots?”

“And a waste of money. I said that, too.” Blake stopped just a hair’s breadth away and very nonchalantly shelved a book just behind Weiss’ shoulder. “But you’ve got a crown to win, right? Prom Queen to go with your other honors?”

“There’s only one crown that I care to claim,” she replied, reaching up to bury her hand in midnight locks between the faunus’ ears and pulling her down into a kiss. Normally, they didn’t indulge in such outside of Ms. Goodwitch’s office, which the librarian granted them access to once they’d reshelved all the books. If she suspected what they did in there, she remained silent, probably because while reshelving the books they would also fix what other aides did incorrectly and she appreciated the help more than she cared to curtail PDAs.

The kiss didn’t last too long- just long enough to drive her point home- but the look in amber eyes almost made her too weak to move.

Weiss gathered her courage. “I do love you, Blake.”

Not ‘care about’, not ‘fond of’, not any other arrangement of words she’d used over the past year to describe how she felt. Fear that caring too much would make her careless had prevented her from saying the words before. Now, though, she couldn’t go another moment without Blake understanding exactly how much she cared.

After the shock passed, Blake smiled softly, ears canting forward. “I love you too, Weiss.”

It took a moment for them to part but they returned to the counter and finished reshelving the books.

“Blake?”

“Yes?”

“Do you think I’d look good in black?”

---

Hi, yes, please join me in picturing Blake as a late 90′s/early 00′s goth girl.

[smells-like-mettaton]

Rating: G

Word Count: 1280

Summary: After a year as queen, Alphys no longer expects a reset.  With her newfound confidence and with Sans by her side, would it be awful to admit she doesn't want to go back? (Salphys fic for @con-cognito!)

XXX

Sans and Alphys shared a queen-sized bed.

It was a joke, a gift that he’d gotten her a few months after she was flung into this position.  She hadn’t been a queen then, not really.  She was just… there.

Sometimes, just being there was enough.  Sans had taught her that.

Now, over a year later, Sans was here. In her bed.  Tangled in her pink bedsheets, his bare ribcage rising and falling with ironic snores.

Normally the noise was enough to put her straight to sleep.  Tonight, though, old worries found new footholds in her head.

How long was this going to last?  In the first days of her reign, the thought of the human resetting the timeline was all that kept her going.  Then as the days turned into weeks turned into months, she decided they weren’t that benevolent.  They’d wanted this.  Sans had watched them murder without hesitation or mercy.

But now that she was finally getting used to this life… well, it wouldn’t surprise her if the human decided to take it all away.

“Alph,” Sans grunted.  His bony hand flopped onto her face.  “Shhhh. You’re thinkin’ too loud.”

She snorted.  “You read minds now?  What are you, an anime character?”

“Nah.” His eyesockets were still closed, but his permanent grin stretched wider. He looked blurry without her glasses on.  “You spark when you get in your head.”

“Huh?” She sat up slightly, then caught a jolt of static electricity jolting off of her pillow and down her nightgown.  “O-oh.  Oops.”

“Heh.  ‘S cute,” he mumbled, still smiling.

“Sh-shut up.”  She blushed. They’d been in a queerplatonic relationship for about a month now, but she’d always been easily flustered.

(He could be flustered too, she’d found out.  Physical displays of affection wouldn’t faze him, but a genuine compliment would have him hiding in his hood for an average of four minutes and thirty-seven seconds.)

“Make me,” he teased drowsily.  

He only said it ironically—she’d overused the trope in too many of her old fanfics.  It had become somewhat of an inside joke after he’d “accidentally” found her computer folder full of them.

(She couldn’t bare to read them anymore, not when over half of the characters were dead.  But for the same reason, she couldn’t bare to delete them.)

(Some nights she caught Sans up late reading the more tame ones about Papyrus and Mettaton.  In the shameless darkness of their room, he’d admitted that it was nice to pretend they were happy somewhere.)

“I’m gonna make you sleep on the couch,” she grumbled, but snuggled closer to him.  

His pointy elbow was jabbed in her side, and his skull was cold against her cheek.  She didn’t mind.  On nights like this, it was nice to feel someone so solid.  So real.

“C-ouch,” he echoed, emphasizing the pun.

She let out a loud snrk.  

“Just go back to sleep, Sans.”

He rolled towards her slightly, one eyesocket peeking open.

“You sure?” he asked. “I know I’m not the most useful guy around, but. Uh. If all that static’s keepin’ you awake…”

She winced.  He was always observant, even when he didn’t know what to do with what he knew.

“Just the usual. Resets. The human.”  Losing myself. Losing you. “Lame stuff.”

“Oh.”  He was clearly more awake now, but he wouldn’t meet her eyes for some reason.  “Yeah.  Guess that’s… still a possibility.”

“Did you stop thinking about it?” she asked, brow furrowed.  

He’d always seemed more caught up in the concept of alternate timelines than she had.  If he’d stopped worrying, maybe he could help her, too.

“...Nah.  I mean, I’m still not getting my hopes up… but I can see how it’d be nice.” He rolled onto his back.

“N-nice?”

She shouldn’t feel betrayed.  Alphys had lost most of her friends, but Sans had lost his family.  Of course he’d want to get that back, even if it meant losing… this.

It wasn’t like he was wrong.  She could see how it would be nice, too.  Asgore leaving her voicemails she wouldn’t answer.  Mettaton barging through her doors, recounting his latest episode that she’d already watched on TV.  Undyne calling her up just to talk about the nonexistent weather, or to watch anime, or to build giant swords.

But to go back… to lie again, to hide again, to pretend she was fine when she was just steps away from the abyss— 

She couldn’t live like that again. She couldn’t.

“Alph?”  Sans shook her gently, and her magic sparked along his carpals.  “Hey.  Talk to me.”

“S-sorry.”  She reined her magic back in.  “I’m just—being stupid.”

“There’s only one bonehead around here, and it’s not you.”  He rubbed a thumb soothingly over her arm as he spoke.  “I said something dumb, didn’t I?”

“N-no!  I just…” She sighed.  “You won’t judge me for being selfish, right?”

“Hardly fair for the pot to call the kettle black,” he said wryly.

“Ha ha.”

She wrapped her arms around herself and tried not to lean into his touch.  She didn’t deserve it.

“At least you don’t want things to stay like this,” she muttered.

His thumb stilled.  “...Huh?”

“You want the k-kid to reset.”  She dug her nails into her arms.  “I don’t.  I can’t.  I mean, according to our r-reports, I wouldn’t even remember, but!  If I did!  Or, or even if I don’t, and I just feel like, like I’m living it all over again, that whole time I h-hated myself…”

Tears were leaking from her eyes.  She’d long since given up being embarrassed around Sans over things like that.  Still, it made it even harder to see his expression. 

“Why do you think I want to go back?”

She blinked.

“B-because you just said you did?”

“Oh.”  He scratched the back of his spine.  “Huh.  Honestly, I just said that ‘cause I assumed you wanted a reset.”

“...Oh.”

Well now she felt dumb.

“I mean, yeah.  I wish less people were dead.”  He shrugged, shifting the sheets around them.  “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss Papyrus.  But he… he wouldn’t want me to stop living too.”

His eyelights were fixed on the ceiling.  She untangled her arms from around herself and squeezed his hand.

“I think he’d be really proud of you,” she said quietly.

“Yeah.”  He smiled.  “Heh, I can picture the look on his face if he found out I’m working for the Queen.  He’d be so jealous.”

“H-he wouldn’t have to be.  I’d make him a part of the Royal Guard.  A-and give him the fanciest, spikiest armor he could want.”

“He’d shine it every day.  You’d be able to see your reflection in it.”

“He and Undyne would cook spaghetti for us—”

“And we’d pretend we could stomach it.”  Sans grinned, fully facing her again now.

She smiled back, nuzzling her snout against his nasal ridge.

“It’s… not so bad to think about them,” she realized.  “Even if they’re not coming back… we still have their memories.”

She’d been wrong to try to throw that away.  Even if remembering hurt sometimes, it was better than chopping off her memories like a diseased limb.  Asgore, Mettaton, Undyne… they all deserved better than that.

“We do.  And, uh. We’ve got each other,” he added, his cheekbones glowing an ethereal blue.  “Right?”

“You’re such a n-nerd.”  She kissed the top of his nasal ridge.  “I couldn’t do this without you.  You know that.”

“Doesn’t hurt to be reminded.”  He smiled, his eyesockets drifting closed again.

Within seconds, he’d fallen asleep in her arms.

“Thank you, Sans,” she murmured.  “For reminding me, too.”

This time, his snores lulled her quickly to sleep.

[bicycle4two]

say you wanna, say you wanna be || Sam Drake x Reader || Chapter 4

Summary: Sam isn't looking for a girlfriend and, frankly, you don't think you'd be a good one anyway, but you two aren't some one-night stand and it's been a long time since either of you thought of each other as a convenient booty call. This is something more, something the two of you didn't realize would be. It's uncharted territory. And there is no other choice but to figure out how to navigate through it together.

Pairing: Sam Drake x Fem!Reader

Tags(ish): developing relationship, implied/non-explicit sexual content, romance/fluff/hurt/comfort, age difference (though reader’s age is not stated), switching povs (second person reader, third person sam), no y/n but reader has a nickname

C.1 || C.2 || C.3

Chapter Four:

Here’s the thing.

Sam always knew that he and his brother were destined for something great. And, well, he can’t say that greatness didn’t fall on them. Yeah, sure, he spent thirteen years in jail. Who hasn’t? But despite that little hiccup in his life, Sam thinks that he’s done pretty well for himself. He’s discovered a lost city or two, with and without his brother, held some artifacts that were rumored to only be from stories, and tried one of the cigars from Sully’s collection. He even has a place to call his own now, his name on the mailbox downstairs, a doorman who greets him.

Honestly, it’s all he’s ever wanted growing up. More, even. Back in Panama, all he thought he wanted, besides, well, getting out, was to find Avery’s treasure with Nathan. It was that thought that kept him going most days. The idea of finding four hundred million worth of treasure! That was the dream. He and Nathan could finally settle down, or, rather, their version of it. Because they weren’t going to have a normal life. That was never in the cards for them growing up, but it was a nice thought, not having to worry about food or a place to stay.

And Sam hasn’t had to worry about that for a long time. He felt empty after Libertalia, that his story was only just beginning while Nathan’s was coming to a close. There are still things he wants to see, to do.

Time, he realized long ago, was something that he could lose so easily and he wasn’t going to let that happen again.

So he went on more adventures, climbed higher mountains, picked up little trinkets (a habit he got from his little brother, starting his own little collection) along the way to bigger, better things. (It’s just a shame that some things were destroyed along the way, like statues and buildings, but what can he say? It runs in the family.)

But tonight, after a long flight and an uncomfortable chair, all Sam wants to do is go to her and crash on her bed.

Because although Sam has a place to call home, a big apartment that’s filled with his stuff, clothes, souvenirs, a fish…it feels empty. Cold. Even if he had all the money in the world, Sam can’t shake off that feeling that he shouldn’t have too much. That in just a blink of an eye, all this could be gone. Because that has happened before—moving from place to place, packing what you can immediately get your hands on.

Sam wants riches, searches for them all over the world, but deep down he knows he doesn’t know what to do with them. That even if he dreams of more, he only knows how to live with enough.

So, he only has one pillow, a blanket. A towel and an extra, shampoo (the kind that has body soap mixed with it. 2 in 1! What a deal) and deodorant. Clothes, he knows to get the sturdy kind, the kind that won’t rip easily, that stains won’t be too obvious on. Shoes, too. He gets the ones that have good traction, that won’t chafe his feet, won’t deteriorate when wet.

The fish, Jim Hawkins—Jimmy was an attempt to liven up the place. To make it seem homey, to keep him company. But there’s only so much you can do with a fish and Sam can’t deck out Jim’s aquarium any more than he already has. He’s afraid that something would fall on the poor thing, that maybe there’s more inside Jimmy’s castle than meets the eye.

“Welcome home.”

“I’m ho…ome?” Sam drops his bag to the floor, more from being too tired to carry it than shock. He’d resigned to seeing her tomorrow, that it was too late to go over now, but there she is, curled up on his couch, toes peeking out from under a throw blanket. It’s hers. Sam recognizes it easily. It’s the same one she has thrown over her arm chair, the same chair Sam likes to lounge on when he’s found a good book to read.

“How was your trip?” She looks so cozy on his couch. Hands wrapped around an orange mug he’s never seen before, book on her lap. She doesn’t look like she going to get up and Sam can’t blame her. He sort of wants to curl up next to her, somehow squeeze his large frame in the remaining space. “Get me anything nice?”

“I, uh,” Sam’s swallows, blinking. “I’m not dreaming, right? Like, I didn’t get knocked out when I fell off the mountain?”

“You fell off what?” She’s moving to stand up, mug thankfully placed back on the table despite her haste, and Sam doesn’t want her to do that.

“No. No, don’t get up.”

She gets up anyway, blanket falling to the floor, and, oh god, she’s wearing pajamas, oranges printed all over her cotton shorts. She’s by his side in seconds, hands reaching up to his face, bringing him down to her height so she can get a better look at him.

“Ouch,” Sam says, the movement too fast for his aching body. His muscles are sore and the trip home didn’t do them any favors. But she thinks that it’s her fault, that she’s hurt him and her hands are in the air, her eyes wide with both surprise and concern. “It’s not you. It’s just…,” Sam hates to say it, makes him feel old, but, “My back. I hit the ground pretty hard.”

“I feel dumb for asking…but are you okay?” Her hands are back on him, her touch gentle and giving comfort Sam didn’t know he needed. She doesn’t seem to know what to do first, how to check for injuries, but the thought is enough, her being here is enough, makes him feel better.

“Well, I’m alive,” Sam brings up his hand to push her hair away from her face. It’s soft, slightly damp from a shower. Oh. He probably needs one of those. “Nothing a hot shower can’t fix.”

“Can you…,” she hesitates, sucks her bottom lip between her teeth and Sam bends down on reflex, damn his back, and kisses her. She relaxes, sighs, and pulls away, blushing. “Uhm, I, huh?”

“Can I…?” Sam prompts, smirking.

“Now I’m embarrassed to ask.”

“C’mon, princess, don’t leave me hanging. What is it?”

“Can you, uh, do you need help?”

“Do I need help?” Sam grins. “In the shower? Well, there’s only one way to find out.”

…

Sam mentioned it to Nathan before, when they were in Italy, trying to find their way into the Rossi Estate. When you’re locked up with no hope of being let out, it’s the little things you miss the most.  

And Sam didn’t think that there was much to miss anymore now that he was out. He can ride his motorcycle anywhere he wants, go to his own bathroom any damn time he pleases, shower, eat, sleep, drink without permission. He can call Nathan and Sully and Elena without request, without reason. He can stay indoors or go outside without a schedule. He can live. The simple joys of being alive, Sam is able to enjoy them now, in much a greater magnitude than he has ever before.

Citrus, he remembers telling Nathan, he had missed the smell of citrus. The novelty of fresh fruit. The refreshing scent, the taste. The sweetness on his tongue.

“Clementine,” Sam gasps out without thinking, his mind stuck on things he missed and maybe this last trip had gone on longer than he liked.

He’s brought back to earth when the movement stops, even when he adjusts his grip, tries to get her going again, to move her hips the way he knows they both like. He opens his eyes to look at her when she doesn’t budge and she’s frowning at him, there’s a wrinkle between her eyebrows. An angry look.

“That’s not my name,” she says and it looks like she’s going to get off of him and, goddammit, why does she keep doing that?

“What?” Sam’s confused, blood not quite in his head.

“You called me Clementine.” Her tone is upset. Hurt. Sam’s never heard her speak like this before. “Who the hell is that?”

“Shit,” Sam breathes out. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

“Yeah. No shit.” And there she goes, lifting herself off of him as quickly as she had sunk onto him half an hour ago. Sam lets out a grunt. His ribs are bruised yet she flattens her hands on his chest to support herself. She’s doing it on purpose. She was careful before. “I didn’t think you’d be the type to do this, but I guess I was wrong.”

Sam’s cold without her, for more reasons than one, and he knows that if he doesn’t say something, anything, now, she’s going to be out that door before he can even finish saying Hail Mary. And no amount of prayer, to any sort of god out there, is going to bring her back.

So, Sam swallows down his pride, and says, “It’s you.”

“Yeah, I heard you say that before. ‘Just you.’ How can I-I be so stu-stupid?” Her voice wavers and shit she’s crying, isn’t she? He made her cry.

“And I mean that. Hey, come here.” Sam doesn’t want to hold her too tightly, afraid to hurt her, but he has to know that she isn’t going to leave, that she’s going to stay and listen to him. She turns to look at him, tears flowing down her cheeks, nose red, lips quivering, and Sam’s heart just about breaks. He did that. He’s never felt more like an asshole. “It is just you. It has been since the start. I promise.”

She doesn’t say anything. Just waits. And Sam feels like he’s back in school, standing in front of his class, giving a presentation.

“I, uh, did I ever tell you that I was in prison once?” Sam manages to get out. He always knew he was going to have this conversation with her, knew that with how their relationship was going, he couldn’t keep her in the dark much longer, but he had hoped that he would at least be wearing pants for this.

“No,” she breathes out, wiping her nose with a tissue she got from his bedside table. Huh. Was that tissue box always there? Anyway. “But I figured.”

“The tattoos?”

“No,” she says again and by some miracle there’s a smile on her lips. It’s small, gone with a blink of an eye, but Sam knows what he saw, has all of her smiles memorized. “Someone like you just has the talent of getting into trouble.”

And Sam can’t help it. He lets out a laugh because it’s true. She knows him.

“Well, I can’t deny that. But anyway,” He clears his throat. Was talking always this hard? “When I was in prison. In Panama—that’s important. This was when I was in Panama. I was there for thirteen years and, Jesus, time moves differently there. It’s like the days can’t go by fast enough but next thing you know a year has passed by, two, three, and you’ve lost your youth because some asshole decided to get all stabby with the guard.”

The words are spilling out, like he can’t get them out of him fast enough. Because he needs her to know, to understand.

“It wasn’t my fault. Well, okay, I was there on purpose at first, but those thirteen years were like a punishment for what that asshole did. I was supposed to die there. We were escaping, we were almost there, almost free, but I got shot and I fell. The guards found me and got some ‘doctors’ to patch me up. They made sure that if I was going to die, I was going to die because I rotted in that hellhole.”

Sam can see that she’s listening, that she’s hanging onto every word so he continues, because now that he’s started, he can’t stop.

“I was only in my twenties. There was so much I wanted to see, to do. Nathan and I had plans, dreams. We were going to go all over the world. But I was stuck there. Alone. And no one knew that I was alive. It’s like I stopped existing. Sometimes.” The words are stuck. But Sam forces them out. “Sometimes I, uh, I wished it were true, that it would be better if I was just gone. That I had just died back there.”

She’s crying again and Sam wipes her tears for her, brings her closer to him. Because these tears aren’t because of him anymore, but for him. And isn’t that something? Having someone cry for you.

“You don’t realize how much you have until everything is practically ripped away from you. I didn’t have any privacy. I…I couldn’t take a leak when I needed to. You just end up thinking, cuz there really isn’t much to do but think, about what you had. How life was good. And I, I just missed everything. I missed Nathan, of course, he’s my little brother. But, it’s the small things, too. Like riding my bike into the sunset. Grass beneath my feet. A glass of cold water. And…”

“And?” She asks, eyes focused on the gunshot scars on his abdomen, fingers tracing their shape. It tickles.

“And the smell of citrus.” He makes her look at him because this is important. The most important thing. “I missed the smell of citrus. The taste. And when I was in Japan, I thought about it again. The things I missed back here, back at home. And it’s citrus—you. I missed you so much, you wouldn’t believe it. I could have called Nathan. Elena, even. To come over here but I called you because,” Sam clears his throat once more. “Because I wanted you here. I had hoped you would be here when I came back. And you were.”

She’s quiet, eyes searching. And Sam’s poured out his heart and soul and now he’s got nothing else to do but wait and see what she does with it. Is this what being honest is like? Being vulnerable? It’s torture. Sam hates it. But he can also think of worse things and that keeps him rooted in his spot, trying to keep his face as honest as he can. Years of hiding is finally coming to bite him in the ass.

“You must have been so lonely.” Is what she says, hands back on his gunshot wounds. She’s transfixed. Almost like she’s been wondering about them forever. And maybe she has. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“Eh. It’s all in the past,” Sam says with a shrug. Because it is in the past. He’s made his peace with it. Mostly. Some things are harder to shake off than others but he’s okay now. He’s built from strong stuff, a sturdy breed. “But, y’know. You’re, uh, killing me here.”

“Killing you?”

“Cuz I don’t know what you’re going to do,” Sam admits. It’s all truth from here on out, huh? “I can’t read you right now. Are you gonna leave? Punch me in the face? Report me? Please don’t report me. I’d really hate to go back to jail. Nathan would kill me. And I still have a few years left to go, y’know?”

She smiles and Sam realizes that he was rambling. He takes a breath, feels himself calm down. Damn. He needs a cigarette. Maybe two. Are his hands shaking? They’re definitely shaking.

“I think you have more than a ‘few years,’” she says, fingers tracing scars. Sam twitches from her touch. Is this what it feels like when he touches her back? “Especially if you stop smoking.”

“I’ve heard it all before.”

“You should start listening.”

“Ah. Someday.” Sam takes her hand in his, mostly to stop her stop her from tickling him, but also to bring them back on topic. Because she still hasn’t said anything. Nothing to give him an idea where they go from here, if there is somewhere to go from here. “So?”

“So…” She leans close, talks in a whisper, like if she speaks any louder, something might shift, break this bubble that they’re in. “So, you have to tell me what you want, Sam.” It’s an echo of what he said to her months ago, a vulnerable, fragile moment just like this. “So I know what to give you.”

But this time is different because she’s always been more generous than him, always been willing to give.

And Sam’s always been someone to take what he wants and he’ll be damned if this time is any different.

“It would be nice if you stayed.”

“Stay? I can do that.”

...

Chapter 5

Read on AO3

...

Sam’s apartment was inspired by @missdictatorme​ ‘s post

[not-using-this1]

Don’t shut me out ~ N.Romanoff

Time for another angst/fluff oneshot I think so here you go :)

In which Natasha knows she has feelings for a certain woman on the team, but she knows that she can't and tries to ignore it, avoiding y/n like the plague. Y/N has had enough of being avoided by her and confronts her about it...things get complicated.

Prompts: "Yeah, well, I shut everybody out. Don't take it personally. It's just easier".

Warnings: none

Word count: roughly 1990

She had been trying to avoid her for the passed two weeks, going on missions for Fury, so she didn't have to be around the Avengers tower. But when she was, it was straight to her room that she had or even the training room if that woman was not there.

Y/n L/n, one of the most badass women who could control fire and bend it at her will, a woman she had known for only a few months since y/n was new to the team. In those few months, she had actually formed a friendship with the woman. And that went from one thing to another...The Black Widow started forming 'feelings' for her. It wasn't her fault, she's only human, but Y/n' beautiful h/c and absolutely gorgeous e/c orbs were always in her mind, especially that smile.

Natasha wasn't scared of these feelings per say, she just knew that it was wrong considering that this woman, this adorable, badass woman was a teammate of hers. Sure, she had a relationship with Clint (Hawkeye) but that was before they even joined the Avengers, all they are know is just partners and good friends.

So what made her think this could work out? Nothing, because it can't - that's just a known fact.

Continuosly avoiding her seemed like the better option, shutting out everybody on the team when she was around. Clint had tried to ask her a few times what was going on but like usual she was easily able to make sure he couldn't read her very well.

Walking down the hall to the kitchen of the Avengers tower, she spotted Y/n, Clint, Thor and Bruce. So as quick as she could she went to grab a drink and walked away, disappearing back down the hall to her room. Locking herself into the room. Who needs to be social anyway?

Y/n tried to say a simple 'hi' to her and she knew it. When she walked straight passed her and ignored her, she saw the hurt in her expression no matter how hard she tried to see it Natasha saw through her facade. But it wasn't just saddness, a hint of anger shown through.

Just when the redhead agent thought she could spend some time alone as per usual, somebody knocks on her door. But she doesn't answer it, she pretends as if she isn't there. They will go away eventually - probably, right?

Nope.

"Natasha, what's going on with you? You've been avoiding everyone for a while. I just wanted to know if you were okay." Y/n' soft voice was heard on the other side.

She heard the clear hurt in her voice which made the redhead feel guilt in her heart for what she had been doing, but that was for Y'n' own good. Nat waited for a good few seconds, not replying just to see if y/n had anything else to say.

Of course she did.

"Please Nat, we're all worried. I'm worried." And that just makes it all better does it? The redhead was feeling even more guilty now. She walked up to her door and put a hand on it, her forehead pressed up against it.

A heavy sigh left her lips, what was she supposed to tell her? That the reason she is the way she is because she likes her? No, that's not her. It's so out of her character to admit these things. Natasha never even had 'feelings' like this before, regardless of her past relationships.

Before she could even let her words come out, y/n spoke up once more "Don't shut me out", Oh god Natasha could hear how much she had hurt her, it's all coming out now. Y/n was usually good at keeping her emotions in check but right now in this moment, she couldn't.

"Yeah, well, I shut everybody out. Don't take it personally. It's just easier." Natasha replied, no hint of any real emotion, she just out right and blankly spoke the truth. The redhead was always blunt no matter what, her brutal honesty was an incredible trait and bad trait at times but it did the trick for her. She heard a sudden slam of a hand on the door. "Then stop, Nat! I get it, I've shut people out too, but trust me it isn't easier than telling somebody you trust what's wrong. It will eat you up inside, especially if it's about someone you see almost everyday. Let me in." y/n shouted but rather softly.

"Please, trust me." Y/n added softly. That's all she wanted from the redhead, to be trusted, to be let in. She already knew of her past that barrier was down but a new one was made up when Natasha started shutting out once more. Nat sighed heavily again, turning the lock on her door so the door could be opened. But the question is, will she open the door? And let the woman she is so madly in love with in?

Or does she want to continue shutting everybody out and risk losing her?

"Natasha, please." Y/n whispered just enough for Natasha to be able to hear through the closed door. The h/c avenger sighed, she was trying to be as paitient with the redhead as much as she could, honestly she would wait for her forever to open up if she had to but maybe right now wasn't a good time for it, maybe Natasha needed longer. "Take your time, just...please don't ignore me anymore, don't ignore any of us." Just as y/n was about to leave, Natasha door opened and she was pulled inside.

Both women looked at one another, never taking their eyes off each other. Their eyes perfectly trained on one another, before Nat sighed and looked away sitting on the end of her bed. Y/n joined her, and the two of them sat in silence.

One of them eventually had to break it but neither seemed like they wanted to, but y/n stepped in when she saw that Natasha could no longer hold her expressionless facade up when she was around her. "Nat, tell me what's wrong." It wasn't even a question now, more of a demand but in the nicest way possible with such a soft voice behind it. Frankly, the woman was clearly getting annoyed with her.

Again with the sighing, Nat tried to look directly at y/n and hold her gaze but all she could do was take small glances every now and then, taking out her beautiful red hair from the messy bun, trying to distract herself, this wasn't even going to work but it was worth a try, anyway.

Another moment of pure silence crept over the two women, Natasha was mentally preparing herself. All thoughts running around in her mind at once, something telling her to just tell her because she just couldn't 'lose' this woman, especially not right now...quite possibly not ever.

"I've been having these feelings, feelings I have honestly felt so strongly about even in my past relationships with men. I don't know how to comprehend them" Natasha started to explain, she probably worded it wrong but who cares? The wall she put up in her emotions was starting to crack and crumble on the ground once again ever since y/n became apart of the team...apart of her life. Remembering that entire month she pretended to 'hate' her when she was just being cautious, to getting to know her, sparring and kicking each others asses, to then even going out places together, and even missions. Those few times Natasha took y/n to her favourite coffee shop in New York.

God, why was this so hard?

"Okay, so first tell me what you're feeling." Y/n broke the silence, she wasn't so sure how to deal with either, none of them were very good with feelings and that much was obvious. "Seriously? Do I have to say it?" Natasha rolled her eyes, she really didn't want to say that four letter word that she never got used to. But y/n nodded, she had to say it either way. "Ugh fine".

"Любовь" She didn't want to say it in english, so she used her first language, russian. Hoping that y/n didn't understand a word she had just said, but the twist was she knew exactly what she meant.

"Love, right. You do realise I took russian, chinese, latin and spanish in high school right and continued them in college before being recruited to SHIELD?" y/n laughed. Natasha cured at herself quietly, thinking she got away with that. The redhead agent should've known that she was smarter then that. "So whose the man you like?" Wow what a way to assume things. Now, Natasha could just go with the fact that y/n had just called her love interest a 'man' and lie completely...but that wasn't the truth, besides she really does like her.

Natasha lightly chuckled at the h/c avengers last statement making her raise an eyebrow in question, not knowing why the redhead found that even remotely funny.

"Bold of you to assume it's a man." She laughed before going back to being all serious. "This was a mistake." Her mood changed so quickly that y/n didn't even have time to comprehend what the hell was happening. Natasha had grabbed her and walked her over to the closed door to basically kick her out...but before she could y/n got in front of the door.

"No, you have to trust me. Do you?" She asked.

Of course Natasha does, but she just doesn't know how to open up about this at all. The woman she loves is standing in front of her and this isn't easy, it never is. The agent simply nods her head staying quiet. "Just tell me about them, the way you know best." Tell her about them? How the fuck is she supposed to do that? It would be so much easier if she just showed her but what if she didn't like her back?

Oh fuck it.

Natasha wasted no more time, grabbing the back of y/n' neck with her hand and pulling her in for a kiss, not sure if this was the right move. Y/n was taken aback by the action but before she could even kiss Natasha back, the redhead pulled away regretting her decsion. "I am so sorry that was-"

"Shut up" Y/n spoke pulling Nat back into a kiss. They kised each other with such passion that Natasha backed y/n up against the door, trapping her between her and the door. Pulling away Nat smirked "don't tell me to shut up." She added.

Y/n laughed "when were you going to tell me?" She added, knowing full well what she meant Natasha kissed her for a good few seconds again.

"I wasn't but now I'm glad I did it through actions." Natasha replied with a small smile forming in her lips.

"Promise not to shut me out again, okay? Because I'm here for you, we all are."

Natasha knew that, but she couldn't make that promise, not now. Maybe if she was a different person she could but right now that wasn't going to happen. "Kiss me again?" Natasha replied.

Y/n couldn't say no to her, so she pulled her back in this time taking some control of the kiss until Natasha got comfortable and took over completely.

[nightferns]

How c!Ranboo's attitude towards c!Wilbur lines up with everything he's been told | a quote list

All /rp of course

So on Tubbo's last lore stream (my new purpose) Ranboo said this:

"-thats why im here so when he does something that does redeem himself then someone can be there that will be able to see it and everything, and honestly i'd rather have it be me the person, rather have the person that be there be me instead of maybe someone else[...]"

And then this, when asked why he didn't tell Wilbur about marriage:

"[...]From what i've heard from Tommy and everything the Wilbur that 13 years ago- at least might've- he used stuff against Tommy and everything so just in case- "

And it made me wonder what exactly lead him to that opinion so i spent a day ghathering quotes in which Ranboo heard/or was told something about Wilbur, before the revival. Its a bit of a long one so strap in.

Convos about Alivebur that Ranboo either listened to or was a part of, pre-meeting him.

Vod: Tubbo and Tommyinnit Start To Break Apart…

TommyVods

Tommy [talking about Techno]: -Wilbur died in action, so he doesn't- so he didn't live long enough to face the consequences, but that guy he is a fucking bitch.

Ranboo: So he was fighting with you and then he decided to go against you.

Tommy: yeah. He decided that the last minute "Hey! Hey what im gonna do is fuck everyone over."

Ranboo: Oh… so he was sort of a vigilante of sorts? His own-

 [...]

Tommy: sit down [on the bench]…  fuck. I just want back the discs, that's all- thats all I've wanted everytime im sat on this bench, that's all we've wanted.

Ranboo: Yeah, I can tell... You seem pretty adamant about those.

Tommy: Yeah! It's because-! Literally bro- since the- four months! [...] four months ago is when I first started trying to get these discs! And it was just me, Tubbo- there was no Technoblade on this server! There were like 6 people- and it was just me and tub- there was no nation there was no- it's always been about getting back the shit dream stole from this very chest!

So now Tubbo's gotten this position of power and is doing it- it's dis- it's disappointing.

B-but thank you, for sticking up for me, no one did that, you saw big Q fucking turning on me- you saw Fundy- they're-  they're just sheep bro, they're just sheep. Thank you

Ranboo: Well, you stuck up for me when you could've easily pinned it on me. You could've just said "oh, he was the one that did it", because- i mean, my name was being said in there too, but then you just decided to take all of it and now we're in this situation.

So I couldn't just let that happen, I couldn't stand by, have Tubbo call you selfish when you did something- the opposite.

Tommy: Thank you-

If they evict me through- that is it he-

Ranboo: yeah.

Tommy: -dude, you know i'm worried- i- i don't want to, i know there's that one line that we- that rings through my head as i sleep l of Wilbur going "Tommy, let's be the bad guys." But I wanna- i don't wanna be the bad guys. I just want-

Ranboo: I don't think that's- that's not a good thing to do.

Tommy: The reason- do I say this now? Yeah-  The reason I didn't make Tubbo the leader, when I had- and I could've chose anyone, and I chose Wilbur, the man who was already half-insane but I knew he was coming back around, and I didn't choose Tubbo.

Is because i knew that if tubbo was the president,

it would pull us apart Ranboo, and look at him he's picking his nation over me. And i- and if he does on Friday I don't know what I'm gonna do with myself.

Ranboo: No matter what happens on friday i'll help you. I'll-I'll figure it out- I'll try to talk to Tubbo, i'll try to see if something better can happen.

.

Vod: *Archive* Mar 6, 2021

Philza

Phil: [places down a picture of Wilbur] my son.

Ranboo: Oh. There he is.

Phil: I wanna put his picture in the-in the meeting room, cruz i want to be reminded, i miss him, it's lik- he's been gone a long time.

Ranboo: He has. He really has. He's been gone, before I even came here.

Phil: He did some dumb shit y'know. And my hand was forced, in a sense, but I miss him everyday, I do miss him.

Ranboo: Oh, yeah i heard about that

Phil: I do wish he'd come back.

Ranboo: Yeah, Well… well I mean, wasn't he a ghost for a little bit?

Phil: Yeah, but that wasn't really him-

Ranboo: Oh.

Phil: That was- That was like the pure kind of innocent version of him if that was to exist I think, he was very kind of uhm- it was just not him though, it was just not him. So it was kind of like talking to a doll of like- someone.

Ranboo: I mean- I mean it's the most you're able to get at least. Like-

Phil: Yeah…

[...]

Phil: -sad, miss child, miss, maybe i shouldn't have stabbed him but you know.

Ranboo: Yeah, well i mean- yeah.

Phil: I Bet if- i bet if- if i was to talk to him again he' would- he would probably forgive me, he- he definitely was at the end of his rope and i dunno maybe he'd think of it differently.

Ranboo: I mean, it was his wishes, I mean he wouldn't- it was his wishes, it wasn't- like- he wouldn't- he wouldn't not forgive you for following what he asked you to do.

Phil: Yeah. I dunno.

Ranboo: But- one day hopefully-

Phil: Can't help but think if i did the right thing or not sometimes.

Ranboo: I mean, when you think about what he would have done if you hadn't, you know?

Phil: Yeah, he was out of control.

Ranboo: Like if you- if you hadn't like- would anything- would anything have changed?

Phil: I dunno, I kinda showed up at the most chaotic time possible and yeah it was just- didn't really have a lot of time to process things. It was like "Hey I should probably stop him from blowing up this place" that I had no real knowledge of other than that he helped build it. That's all I heard. I got- i got like letters from him just like telling me what he'd been up to and stuff, and that he was having fun with this friends and then the letters stopped, and i got worried so i started to like- 

Ranboo: mhm.

Phil: -make my way over to this area.

Ranboo: Yeah.

Phil: And I was right to worry, apparently.

Ranboo: I mean, I don't know, I think- I mean, I think there's really- there's really nothing you can do about it now, you know? There's- it's really like- you can- you can try and get closure but I mean, the ghost- Ghostbur is missing in action and he has been for a little while, and...

Phil: Yeah, whenever I talked to Ghostbur I didn't really feel like I was talking to him though, like it wasnt really- It was him but it wasn't him, like-

Ranboo: Yeah.

Phil: It's hard to explain.

Ranboo, I mean you just- i- i think you did the right thing even though its not- it wasn't the optimal thing, you know? I mean, was it the best solution? Probably not, but it was still a solution so.. I'd say you still did a good thing even though in your eyes it's probably not good, but what else were you gonna- what else were we gonna do?

Phil: Yeah, true.

Ranboo: yeah.

.

Vod: Tommy's Plan to Kill Dream

TommyVods

Tommy: Tubbo, I died. I spoke to Schlatt, I spoke to Wilbur, Wilbur Soot, alright?

Tubbo: Has Schlatt changed his ways? Or is he still smoking and drinking-

Tommy: Tubbo, they've been in there for so long, and so many years, alright?

Tubbo: Years? They've only died months ago-

Tommy: Tubbo, I was in that prison for about… month and five days, alright. Time in death though? I was here for months and months and months! Time's different when you d- Don't tell anyone this- Time's different when you die.

Tubbo: So you're older, now curz-

Tommy: I don't, I don't know! [...]

.

Tommy: -But Listen to me! I've seen everything! I know so much more than you now, I've been with the dead and I know so much more! So much more I'm not willing to explain. But listen to me we need to kill him, before it's too late-

[...]

.

Tubbo: Why is it different now? Why are we killing him- why didn't we just kill him to begin with, when we had the chance? Why did you put it off?

Tommy: Because Tubbo i thought he would use the revive book for go- ok, this is what he said to me he said he will only use the revivebook to revive Wilbur, and he said that that when he gets out out of the he's gonna hurt, not just you, but everyone i care for, he's gonna hurt everyone. So please we need to kill him.

[...]

Tubbo: So why don't you want him to bring Wilbur back now? What suddenly changed? 

Tommy: I've spent months in the death area- well- let's call it the death zone, with Wilbur, right.

Tubbo: the death zone? Like limbo-

Tommy: I've spent months there, I've spent months and months and months there and I was only there for a few days, Wilbur's been there for real months, he is so different and he is powerful and you know how he molds me like a piece of clay Tubbo. I don't want him to come back, we can't let him come back, and Dream said to me that he'll revive Wilbur.[...]

.

Tommy: No, i spoke to you, not Ghostbur, i spoke to you

Ghostbur: But i am Ghostbur

Tommy: I spoke to Wilbur,

Ghostbur: You don't wanna talk to him.

Tommy: I know, I never wanna talk to him again.

Ghostbur: He's not very nice, he's not a nice guy.

Tommy: Acu- Ghostbur i've got a question for you, do you want him to come back?

Because i- i don't, i don't think i do ever ever.

Ghostbur: He's a- i- uhm.. t-the world needs- needs structure and order and he he's good at that, he did that but- i-

Tommy: No, the world needs less villains, and he was a villain if I've ever seen one.

Ghostbur: But a villain is just a- sometimes the line's a little blurry, you could say, a little blurry it's a tiny bit, it's like a villain- a villain is just a hero you haven't convinced yet.

Tubbo: I'm not sure I follow you.

Tommy: No, but he started as hero, he started as a hero and then he was the villain.

Ghostbur: Well-

Tommy: I don't think we should bring him back ever. 

Ghostbur: Oh…

Tommy: I think you should-  you like being a ghost don't you? Hey! Look bl- Red! You can stand on the red! [...]

.

Ghostbur: Yeah,i- i- i like it here but  we were talking about this and i thought we wanted to bring back Wilbur, because he understood-

Tommy: No-

Ghostbur: -because, because L'manburg got blown up-

Tommy: No! No no no no, We don't want to bring back Wilbur, i've spent months with Wilbur, wh-when you die times different Ghostbur, i know i can speak to you 'cause you don- you keep secrets, times different, alright? i've spent so long with Wilbur,

Ghostbur: How- how long?

Tommy: Months and months and months alright? And if i was here for months, he's been there for years, possibly decades, he can't come back.

This isnt a-

Ghostbur: How- how- so what's the corversion? What's the- how long-

 Tommy: What's the conversion rate?-

Ghostbur: yeah, what's the-

Tommy: -God, you sound like a fuckin' bitcoin miner.

Ghostbur: -If time's different in the- in the- in the dead land then what's the- what do you call it? Limbo- if time is different in limbo then what's- what's- what's the difference?

Tommy: I don't really know. But I was there, apparently, I was dead, according to the Dream but he does lie, I was dead for- for 3 days. And i was there for-

Ghostbur: And how long, how long was that in months?

Tommy: I don't know, i can- i can say  months and months, i- i'd- i'd say between three to seven?

Ghostbur: Okey.

Tommy: So the middle, four point five.

Ghostbur: -So Wilbur's been dead for ten to twelve years.

Tommy: And there's a lot to learn when you're dead, innit?

Ghostbur: What did you learn? I've just forgotten things.

Tommy: Oh I learned about bad shit.

Ghostbur: Yeah?

Tommy: Do you know what Wilbur did? He very slowly and excruciatingly, over an entire month, explained to me what hemorrhoids was and it hurt me so much.

And then he'd go on about all the books he has been reading. It was terrible, it was the wor-

Tubbo: Did you see each other? Or were you just-

Tommy: Oh, Don't make me talk about it! Don't make me talk about it! Oh, it was- it was the worst!

.

Ghostbur: Tommy why didn't you want Wilbur back?

Tommy: Well… I spent a long long time speaking to Wilbur in- when I was dead. And i- and when I wanted to bring him back I thought he- I thought there was still some brotherness there, I thought maybe he's still my pal. And I found out he's not- he's only grown worse.

Ghostbur: He spent a lot of time around a bad guy, he spent, like a decade you said, around- around Schlatt and Schlatt's the bad- Schlatt's the bad guy right?

Tommy: I don't think Schlatt's the only bad guy.

Ghostbur: He's a bad guy right? Him and Eret are the bad guys right? That's the- that's the-

Tubbo: Yes, more or less.

Ghostbur: That's what you told me.

Ranboo: And Dream of course.

Tommy: There's a lot more bad guys.

[...]

.

Vod: Ranboo prepares with tommyinnit to take down dream on the dream smp full stream (VOD)

Ranboo Vods

Ranboo: [About Dream] He's trapped in there and we thought he was powerless but even in there he still has power that's why we're killing him actually. Its because-

Ghostbur: What's the worst he could do with the power?

Ranboo: He could bring back the people that are- well, technically the villains in this story, and then get out. And then start to do what he did before he got into prison, just again, and probably worse honestly!

Ghostbur: He's gonna bring back Schlatt?

Ranboo: He can bring back anyone that's died.

[...]

Ghostbur: Also- um, so are we- are we not bringing back Wilbur anymore? Is that… off the table? 'Cause Phil and Technoblade and- and- and people are still keen- and Eret is keen to bring back Wilbur. And i- i'm- Ranboo i gotta tell you i'm really scared. I- i'm not scared of Wilbur i think.

Ranboo: Yeah.

Ghostbur: I'm scared of going back to.. nothing. I- I'll be gone again. I dont- I- i kinda like being here and i like all my friends and i don't...

Ranboo: Yeah. See it's different with me because I never knew Wilbur, i never met Wilbur. I've only met, well you… so...

Ghostbur: I- I think im pretty- I like to think im pretty neat.

Ranboo: Yeah i think you're pretty neat too. I don't- i don't think-

Ghostbur: Yus!

Ranboo: I mean, Honestly i'd- i never knew Wilbur, i never met him but I mean,  what i've been told, he seemed like he had good intentions and- and i mean, i think that's kinda what you are, you are his good intentions.

Ghostbur: In a pint sized glass.

Ranboo: yeah.

Ghostbur: in a little package, little package.

Ranboo: yeah!

Ghostbur: I've read his memoirs Ranboo, i've read- they are all gone now they were blown up when my library was destroyed, so many really important pieces of history were blown up when that library was destroyed.

Ranboo: Definitely yeah.

Ghostbur: But I have- i read his memoirs and he- he was- he was pretty ok! Most of the time, he seemed like he was- people liked him but then- then- then he lost this election and- and- and you know the story, everyone knows the story. 

Ranboo: yeah, yeah.

Ghostbur: But i just- i- from seeing how much everything went down and how Tubbo was- was really badly you know? Scared with- by- by- you know? the explosion and things which- thinking about it that's- maybe was Technoblade's fault and Phil's fault, but um, because of all this now more than ever it's really important that we have a leader and that's why i was on the side on bringing him back

and if- if things have changed, if you tell me i'll go along with whatever you say if- if you think Ghostbur sticks around, i'll stick around but if you think Wilbur- Wilbur sticks around i'll- i'll do whatever it takes to help you! I just- I just wanna help! I just wanna help Ranboo!

Ranboo: yeah, im-

Ghostbur: -And i can see it in you that you know what's best.

Ranboo: The thing is i- i really don't. i mean, Ha- Wilbur... he seemed good, when you read anyone's memoirs it helps them… kinda rationalize the way that they think so- i honestly don't know, because-

Ghostbur: History is written by the winners.

Ranboo: Yeah and he, he technically won, I mean he did what he wanted to.

Ghostbur: but then he lost and everyone hates him.

Ranboo: I don't- i don't think everyone hates him. I don't really hate him. I mean, it's like hearing about a historical figure. I mean he did good things yeah, but he also did bad things so. I- i'm indifferent as i am with a lot of things.

Ghostbur: I'm sure- i'm sure that you'll figure it out

[...]

.

Ranboo: I haven't even heard of Wilbur honestly, i- i've barely heard of Wilbur, i mean, Tubbo really has not told me much about Wilbur other than i mean, he's the one who blew up Manburg the first time. 

But i like Ghostbur i mean, i like- i like Ghostbur i'd say a lot more, because Ghostbur seems nice, i don't think that anything is going wrong right now, i mean if we- if we kill dream then… then uh- ' cause we don't need a leader. 

I really don't know... I really don't know, I don't think we need a leader, because if- if someone rules everyone then- i mean if the leader becomes corrupted, when the leader becomes corrupted then we see what happens. We- we see what happens when someone who leads becomes corrupted, heck i'm a part of an anarchist organization So… I really just don't know what to do.

Because I mean, Tommy doesn't want Wilbur back.

I don't think anyone wants Wilbur back, so why is it even a question?

All I do know is that we definitely have to kill Dream, right? We definitely have to kill Dream. I mean, we gotta- we gotta kill Dream.

I mean, i don't even know if anyone wants him back, i mean, the only person that i would think would be Phil, right? The only person that I'd think would be Phil, so… but Phil's ok now, he's doing alright, shure he's sad now, but I think he'll be good, yeah I think we'll be able to kill Dream and everything will be good!

I mean, if we kill Dream, Wilbur isn't coming back, we won't have to worry about much- we'll still have to worry about things but not on the scale Dream was doing right? Right? [...]

[...] So if everyone's ok without him, I mean, everyone's ok already… right? Everyone's- Everyone's good, I mean, I like Ghostbur, I think that Ghostbur is awesome. I don't know-[...]

.

Ranboo: Oh my goodness. Yeah see, i like Ghostbur a lot more, i like Ghostbur a lot more.

.

Vod: Wilbur's Revival Dream SMP

TommyVods

Tommy: No you don't understand, It's not that he's dead it's that Wilbur's back.

Tubbo: What?

Ranboo: What do you mean Wilbur's back? No, you mean Like- Wilbur? Like-

Tommy: Let's go-

Ranboo: "Press button and blow up" Wilbur, that one?

.

Tommy: No, no ok, listen to me, Did you think I liked Wilbur? Is that what you think this is about Ranboo? Why are you being so unempathetic?

Ranboo: I don't know what you mean! Like-

Tommy: Wilbur is back, Ranboo! Ghostbur is dead!

Ranboo: Yeah-

Tommy: No, no there's only one way to know.

Ranboo: What do you mean? Like- like THE Wilbur? The one that- like your friend?

Tommy: We are not fucking friends, Ranboo.

Ranboo: Wilbur wasn't-? I mean, I knew he did some bad stuff but I thought he was at least kind of your friend. 

Tommy: No, Wilbur was nothing.

Ever since i died Ranboo, we- i spent so long with Wilbur-

Ranboo: Yeah?

Tommy: -and i thought he changed, every time i thought he changed, but Ranboo he never changes, Wilbur never changes… and now he's back.

.

Ranboo: May- Maybe- Maybe he's different you know? I mean, he's been spending a lot of time in the afterlife-

Tubbo: Yeah, he's been dead for a while,

Ranboo: -he probably might be different, you know?

Tommy: He's not different Ranboo, i've been there Ranboo, and he's so much fucking worse. When we go up to him, you two just stand back-[...]

.

[sp00ky-arts]

You Take My Breath Away

I can’t believe I’m doing this *hides face* Okay so I wrote this some time ago but never got to posting it because I thought it was trash (though I draw mostly anyway.) I was having Bo feels and needed to let them out so I wrote this for the heck of it. So enjoy this crappy smut story.

Synopsis: Basically you patch up Bo after a victim gets difficult and things get heated

(Sorry if Bo is a little out of character I changed him a bit)

You were making your way up to the gas station to see what Bo was up to. You tended to stay away from their work, as they didn’t want you getting mixed up in the mess, but it was okay because you preferred it that way. A few months back you were actually a victim yourself. However, miraculously things changed and were spared, you became part of this little family. They very rarely used you as a distraction like I said before but sometimes it came in handy having a girl around. The guys seemed to warm up to you pretty quickly. Lester warmed up to you instantly when he first spoke to you the first time, Vincent took a liking to you as well, him being a brother figure to you. Bo was a little bit harder at first but eventually he came around, sharing a bond quickly. But truth be told, you had a bit of a crush on the bastard mechanic man. It was insane to have a crush on someone who was about to literally kill you, yet you couldn’t stop thinking about the blue eyed man. So you simply buried those feeling and moved on.      

 Upon arriving at the gas station you here clattering noises and you froze. ‘Was he dealing with a victim?’ You though to yourself. Maybe you should come back later. But hearing Bo yelp out, your curiosity peeked further. Walking slowly down the basement were the noises became louder. Your heart beating at the possibilities that could be going on right now. Reaching the bottom of the stair your eyes widened at what you saw. Bo was indeed dealing with a victim that got loose. His nose seemed to be bleeding, and judging from the bruises that were forming he’s taken a few blows as well. Part of you should you feel relief that he was getting a taste of his own medicine, but another part you wanted to jump into his defence. After all, you had no one to go home to really. Home life was a struggle to begin with, and on top of that you found out your boyfriend had been cheating on you with your now ex-best friend so there was that. Really nothing to go back to. Here, you oddly felt at home, relaxed and at peace. Back home it was just pure and utter chaos. Seeing a lone crow bar strewn on the floor among all the ruckus, you pick it up, a firm grip as you tiptoed behind the man who was currently taunting Bo with a knife. His eyes flicked to you quickly before looking back at the man and feigning a look of defeat.

 “Well, l-looks like…. you got me fair n’ s-square, man. You win.” He said in between breaths to make it seem more believable.

 “That’s right, motherfucker, you’re gonna rot in hell when I-” You struck the man at the back of his head cutting him off. The sickening crack could be heard before he slumped to the floor knocked out.

 “Fuckin’ prick. Help me get him upstairs, Vincent’s on his way.” He stood up, a groan of pain escaped his lips as he stood up from his crouched position. You did as told, dropping the crow bar and grabbing the other side of the man that was still unconscious. You made it upstairs and sure enough Vincent was already there waiting. He tossed him in the back of the truck and with a wave he drove the man back to the house to finish with him. You look back at Bo as you heard him making groaning sounds again.

 “You okay?” You ask, frown on your face.

“Yeah, it’s just, the fuckin’ dick can really pack a punch. Shit…”  He hisses in pain.

 “Let me get the first aid kit.” You say and walk back into the gas station with Bo in tow.

 “Where is the first aid kid?” You asked as you couldn’t seem to find it on the upper level.

 “Downstairs.” He pointed back downstairs. You drag him by the hand and brought him back downstairs before telling him to sit in the chair.

 “it’s okay, darlin, you don’t have to.” Bo spoke up. The nickname made you heat up. You’ve heard it so many times and yet it still caused butterflies to rise in your stomach.

 “I know, but I just want to help, besides some of those could get infected.” You gestures to some of the cuts on his face. He chuckled and let you do your thing.

 “Always keen on helpin’ out, don’t ya, sweetheart.” He muttered mostly to himself. You bring over the first aid kit and trying to get to his height as best you can. Trying not to cringe at the bruise that was blooming on his cheek as well as cuts.

 “Now, you gotta ice the bruises because those look nasty, but I can put a little Polysporin on the cuts.” (I googled it, you can put polysporin on cuts, scrapes, and burns.) You took a bit of the cream on your finger and gently dabbed it on his open cuts. Bo was so focused on you as you tended to his wounds, your face burning as he was watching your every move. You tried ignoring it and focused on your task at hand but it was getting difficult, you could feel his minty breath on you, lips practically beckoning you for a kiss. You should stop before you start creating scenarios in your head.

 “Okay and done. It’s not the best but it’s what I can do for now, hopefully it helps, just gotta ice those bruises…actually I think we-” You started to say but Bo pulled you back into him. You were practically on top of him, you were sure if you moved at the right angle your lips would touch. Your gaze locked at his lips before looking up at his eyes.

 “Bo?” You ask, quirking your brow up at him. He stares at your lips and bites his before he meets your eyes. He starts leaning in and your heart starts thumping in your chest. ‘Holy shit, is this about to happen right now?’ you think to yourself. He was so close that if you nudged forward in the slightest you’d be kissing.

 “Tell me to stop and I will.” He muttered lowly. Before you had time to comprehend what he said, he quickly shut his eyes and placed his lips atop yours. You were practically stone in your position as Bo proceeded to kiss you. Crap, it was happening. Your eyes slowly closed and gently kissed back, the taste of copper stimulated your senses. Hands placed on his shoulders gently, as you didn’t really know where else to put them, kissing him with a lot more passion and vigor. He licked your bottom lip asking for entrance. Your eyes widened at and pulled away, gasping for breath.

 “What happened?” Bo asked, searching your face.

 “D-Do you think, we’re moving too fast?” You asking biting your lip.

 “You wanna stop?” He asked back. He got you there. It honestly felt good but you weren’t sure if this was moving too quickly, still you shook your head no. He smirked at that.

 “Then where were we?”

 “I think we were here.” You reply with a smirk of your own. Crawling up until you straddled his lap and re-connecting your mouths once again. It soon became a dance of tongues and hands exploring as you melted into each other. Before you knew you were both stripped out of your clothes aside from your bra and panties and his boxer briefs.

 “Fuck, you’re beautiful.” Bo mumbled against your neck, pepper soft kisses on the supple skin. You leaned back to give him more access.

 “Nnghhh..B-Bo…” You moan out. His hands traveled down your back, stopping at the clasp to your bra where he quickly undid it with no problem. He tossed the material across the room and looked at your now revealing chest. He trailed down to where he was facing your chest, sucking a taut nipple into his mouth. He lashed his tongue over the nub as you gripped onto his hair.

 “Jesus, Bo, s-slow down…” You moan. You didn’t expect that this would happen, but man was this better than your imagination.

“Sorry, Doll, just can’t control myself.”  He says switching to the other. As much as you like this foreplay that was going on, you just wanted him inside of you already.

 “B-Bo, can you..ahhhh,, c-can you please put it in.” You bite your lip.

 “Can’t wait can you? That’s alright neither can I, wanted to tear into you for quite some time now, babygirl.” Bo rasps. He takes off his undergarments along with your, leaving you both completely naked.

 “I wanna ride you.” You say, cheeks heated.  

 “Go ahead, Darlin’, it’s all yours.” You bite your lip as you align yourself with his member.

 “Can’t wait to tear into this cunt.” He utters to himself. You sink onto him as he held himself for you. You both groan at the feeling, you for feeling full, and him because the tightness and warmth your cunt is doing to him.

 “Holy shit, Bo…” You toss your head back as you begin slow movements, up and down slowly. However, this just wouldn’t do, you needed more. You speed up your movements and set a good pace.

 “Shit…now ya sure you’ve never done this, Darlin’? He asked. You slap his chest and playfully roll your eyes at his comment.

 “Hey, I’m kidding, I’m kidding..fuck.”

 “Ohh sorry, did I hurt you?” You say in worry.

 “Nah, I’m fine.”  You continue your ministrations. You couldn’t believe you were already feeling like you were gonna finish.

 “B-Bo, I-I think I’m gonna….” You moan out. Bo’s hand darts to your clit and starts rubbing quick circles on it as as he fucks in to you harder, you felt your walls start to flutter

“That’s it, do it.” He instructs. You came with a moan and a shout of his name and that was enough to send Bo over the edge to his release.

 “Shit, baby…” He groans and clenches his eyes shut.  You slump against him out of breath as he holds your still shaking body against his.

 “Bo?” You look up at him, eyes searching into his blue hues.

 “Mmm?” He hums while stroking your hair and staring back at you.

 “You know I care about you.” You say.

 “I know ya do, darlin’ He replies tucking hair behind your ear and kissing you softly.  

   If for some reason you want to see more let me know.